The Red Head And The Firefighter
by TruckieInTraining
Summary: Good Old Fashioned Story Where A Girl Meets A Guy. 23 Year Old, Chelsea Daniels, Meets Recent Transferee To The San Francisco Fire Department And Upon First Sight, Sparks Begin To Fly...
1. Groceries

**Chapter 1**

"Girl? It's been three years since you've last been on a date," Raven noted, browsing through a selection of different sugars in an aisle of Whole Foods Grocery Store.

"And your point is?" Chelsea wondered, reaching for a package brown sugar.

Raven grabbed Chelsea by her cheeks and smashed them together, causing her lips to purse outward. "Girl? Look at you. You should be out getting crunk at a night club like any self respecting twenty-three year old. But no. We're in the grocery store."

"Well'p, Rae, it's not like there's any farms in San Francisco," Chelsea noted, removing her face from Raven's grasp. "We gotta get some food from somewhere and 7-11 doesn't really have a nice selection."

Chelsea did have to admit that Raven was right, however. Her life had become one of monotony with school and work, leaving little time for any fun. She then took note that Raven's face went blank.

"Rae? Are you having a... a vision?" Chelsea whispered.

"No girl..." Raven gasped, pointing to something down the aisle. "Look down there."

Chelsea turned around, expecting to see something like an article of clothing that Raven was envious of, but, instead, found two San Francisco firefighters, both causally strolling with a shopping cart loaded with groceries.

"Girl? What me get their attention." Raven mused. "I knew wearin' my booty pants was a good idea."

Raven positioned herself so that she was in clear sight of the two rescue workers. Next, she pretended to search for something on a lower shelf, causing her to bend over.

"Rae! What the hell are you doing?" Chelsea hissed.

"Just showin' off my lovely little hump, girl," Raven grinned, noticing that both were now looking their way. "And I'm gonna get me some of that."

* * *

"Dude," Firefighter Wally Rooth gasped. "Check out the ass on _her_." 

"I am glad I transferred _here,_" Firefighter Tyler Kent nudged his comrade in his ribs. "But you do know she's just trying to get our attention."

Wally's smile grew. "Well she's got it."

Tyler's attention was briefly upon the mocha skinned girl, but it quickly transferred to the girl with reddish-brown hair and a fairer tone.

"_Captain_ Kent? I feel it is time for us to serve the public," Wally said, rubbing his hands together with anticipation.

"Wait... Captain?" Tyler asked with shock and Wally jogged forth, the suspenders to his turnout pants bouncing at his sides with each step. "Captain!? I-I'm no... Wally... Wally!"

"That's Battalion Chief Wally to you!"

Tyler could only watch as Wally marched up to the two girls. Quickly, he followed suit to perform any damage control.

"Hello ladies," Wally greeted slyly, "I'm Chief Wally and this is my counterpart Captain Tyler."

Raven stood up, arching her back in the process, accentuating her rear and already full chest. "Ooh, a chief and a captain."

"That's right, ma'am," Wally purred. "So what are your names?"

"I'm Raven and that's my home girl, Chelsea."

"Ooh, Raven—" Wally rolled the _R_ in her name—"that's exotic."

Raven made a high pitched squeal, cheesing brightly. While the tete a tete between the two ensued, Chelsea and Tyler could only shake their heads, somewhat mortified by what was going on. They were even more so shocked when both Wally and Raven walked off, with Wally explaining something about his mother's famous recipe for meatballs.

"Well that was strange," Chelsea said after a long five seconds, then turned to Tyler, "so do you guys always come to the store to pick up girls or what?"

"I'm... sorry about that," Tyler apologized, noticing Wally giving him a thumb's up as he rounded a corner.

Chelsea smiled, noticing his awkwardness, finding it charming—and very appealing. Sizing him up, she noticed that he had to be at least six foot three. His skin tone was roughly the same as one of her other close friends, Eddie Thomas, who was now a radio DJ in Los Angeles. But what really drew her in was the warmth in his dark brown eyes.

"So you're a captain, huh. You look kinda young?" she noticed, tapping her lower lip with her finger.

He let out a soft laugh. "I'm no captain. In fact, I'm still kind of a rookie."

Chelsea giggled as well. "I kinda figured that."

The two spend a moment just staring at each other, both with smirks on their faces. Besides her red hair—red being Tyler's favorite color—she had rich brown eyes that were both sweet, yet seductive, like very expensive chocolate. Her lips and smile were to die for and he badly wanted to taste them, but ultimately swallowed that thought.

"Kent!?" A shrill voice called from behind him, startling both Chelsea and himself. "Where's Wally?"

Tyler turned around to find Lieutenant Aimee Rieger, as well as Firefighters Jamie Kwan and Lacey Alvarez.

"He walked off... somewhere," Tyler responded.

"Chasin' after some girl?"Jamie asked, though knowing the answer.

Tyler gave an slight nod as to say "yeah."

"Figures," Aimee groaned, rolling their eyes. "Well saddle up. We're just about ready to roll."

He turned back to Chelsea. "Sounds like I've gotta go." He stuck out his hand. "It was a pleasure to meet you."

Chelsea embraced his hand; Tyler noticing a crumpled piece of paper within her soft palm. "It was nice meeting you too."

Though he didn't want to, he released his grasp upon her hand, making sure he had a hold of the piece of paper she had given him, and walked off towards the checkout line with his fellow firefighters; Wally with a semi intoxicated gaze upon his face.

"What's your deal?" Tyler asked, loading some of the food into an emptied compartment of Ladder Truck 2. "You look like you just downed a few forties of Old E."

Wally grasped the crotch of his turnout pants and gave an upward tug at his manhood. "I love this job."

"You sick son of a mother," Tyler scolded, then laughed as he strolled to the rear of the truck to his position in the singular cab of the tillered apparatus, the other four taking their seats in the front main cab.

Once settled, he opened the crumpled paper, finding Chelsea's email address and both her home and cell phone numbers. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Chelsea and Raven emerge from the store, the two girls looking at the truck. If he was up front in the driver's seat, he would have blasted the horn to acknowledge them, but the best he could do was open his window and wave. To his joy, Chelsea returned his wave, then pressed two of her fingers to her lips and blew a kiss his way.

_Oh I'm definitely calling her,_ Tyler thought through the throaty growl of the truck's engine. _Lord? Please don't let my shyness prevent me from calling her 'cause she is hot!_


	2. Class Work

**Chapter 2**

"Okay... I'm gonna call her as soon as I get home," Tyler said to himself.

"Bullshit," Wally cried, scrubbing some burnt cheese from a baking pan. "Besides, you just got that number yesterday. Wait a little bit. Make her want it."

"Make who want what?" Jamie asked, clearing off the kitchen table.

"Tnek—" Tyler's nickname for two reasons: one, it was his last name spelled backwards, and two, he always wore a navy blue mock turtle neck—"got some chick's number instead of playin' tonsil hockey like any normal red blooded American named me when we were at the store."

"Ah... so the newbie got a girl's number," Jamie ribbed. "She cute?"

"Fuck yeah!" Wally blurted before Tyler could answer. "She had to have been at least a nine point five."

"Okay, if you keep listening to Wally," Jamie stated, "you'll wind up with a venereal disease and your junk might fall off."

As one of the senior fire fighters of Station 2, Tyler listened to Jamie whenever he had some sort of advice to offer.

"But listen, kid," Jamie continued. "Just relax, call her up, and it'll be a walk in the park."

Lacey sashayed into the kitchen, inviting herself into the conversation. "Tnek? If you can spit game like you cook, that chica'll be eatin' outta your hand."

"More like you'll be eatin' her," Wally muttered under his breath. "Or she'll put her mouth on mini-Nek."

Lacey hurled a wet rag at Wally, nailing him square in the face, and calling him a few choice names in Spanish. Both Jamie and Tyler laughed, but Tyler did have to admit that he hoped Wally's statement held some truth.

"So Tnek? Is there any of that mac and cheese left?" Lacey asked. "I wanna take some home tonight."

"Speakin' of which," Wally added, removing the cold, wet rag from his face, "where we going to get drinks?"

"I can't tonight," Tyler said. "I've got an Astronomy class as soon as I get off."

"You're killin' me, Tnek!" Wally roared. "I swear if you don't call that girl and smash that by next shift, I am tying your ass to the tip of the ladder and dangling you out over the bay in the hopes that a blue whale eats you! I swear! The only reason I tolerate you is the fact that you've got a bitchin' motorcycle which I hope you'll let me ride some day."

Tyler cocked his eyebrow. "Are you done?"

Wally took a deep breath. "Yes. I feel I have concluded my rant."

"Good. And you can ride my bike when Aimee stops dating other women." Tyler stated with a grin, making sure the "el tee" was nowhere in earshot.

"But that'll never... oh fuck you, Tnek!" Wally cried.

"Burned your white ass," Lacey laughed.

* * *

"You guys have a busy one today?" Ken Nakamura, the firefighter taking over for Tyler for the next couple days, asked.

"Nah," Tyler dismissed, grabbing his black and white modular riding helmet. "Only seven calls. Some kid got his foot stuck in a toilet, but that was about it."

"How the hell did that happen?" Ken laughed, grabbing something from his locker.

Tyler shrugged as he shut his own locker. "Hell if I know. Thats like asking why the new probie's such a smart ass."

The two of them peered over at Probationary Firefighter Tim Jeter, who was smart as a whip, but had a tendency to try and show up his seniors; not a very good idea.

"I gotta get out of here, Kenny," Tyler stated.

"I'll try not to wear your seat out," Ken called out.

Outside, the sky was still bright, but signs of dusk were beginning to set in.

"I hate you, Tnek!" Wally shouted as he emerged from the station, walking to his car.

"No you don't!" Tyler retorted.

"I know!" Wally announced. "In fact, you're my cocoa dream boat."

Tyler laughed, mounting his motorcycle, a Honda STI1300 Police Edition his mom bought him from Ebay, and started it up.

"Oh great," he moaned, checking his watch.

He had ten minutes to get to the City College of San Francisco Downtown Campus. And since Station 2 was only a stone's throw from downtown, it was rush hour and the streets would be snarled with traffic. Without wasting anymore time, he sped off.

_Too bad i can't hitch a ride on the truck,_ he thought as he listened to 'Fire Like This' by Hardknox filter from his Ipod into his helmet's speakers. _In the truck, we'd just have to blast the sirens and I'd be at class in no time._

* * *

Chelsea took a seat in the classroom, which was beginning to fill with other college students. About ten minutes later, the instructor, who resembled Ben Stein both physically and by the way he spoke, entered the class and passed out a syllabus.

_Astronomy?_ She thought to herself. _Thought this was Astrology. Well, I guess outer space is kinda interesting._

"Class? Welcome to Astronomy One-Oh-One," The instructor began, before the door opened. "May I assist you?"

"Uh... this is astronomy? Right?" A voice Chelsea sort of recognized said from behind her.

"Yes it is," the professor said, then attempted to joke in his monotone voice. "And I will guess that you were late because of your job? Pray tell, what job would that be?"

"My job is protecting the fair people of this city with the San Francisco Fire Department," the voice stated proudly, and a light snapping on within Chelsea's mind as she instantly recognized the voice. "But sir I do apologize. In fact, in the event that your place of residence goes up in a flaming ball of glory, thus causing me to be late, I will make sure to explain why I wasn't able to save your home."

The other students began to snicker.

"Touche," the instructor sighed. "Please take a seat."

Quickly, Chelsea pulled her backpack from the chair next to her. _Please sit next to me. Please sit next to..._

"May I sit here?" the voice asked from behind her.

She turned around to face him, and took a mental picture of the shocked look he had.

"Captain Tyler," she purred.

"Grocery store Chelsea," he returned, taking a seat. "I was going to call you as soon as I got home. But I'll taking seeing you again."

"It's good to see you too," she grinned.

The two spent a long period of time staring at each other while the instructor continued to ramble through an anecdote that the majority of the class had no interest in, causing them to nod off.

"So... you're interested in astrology too?" Tyler finally asked, attempting to squelch the impure thoughts he had of Chelsea racing through his brain.

"I actually thought this was astrology. You know, stuff like signs," she answered. "But I like looking at the stars so..."

"Yeah..." Tyler said absentmindedly. "Stars are awesome."

* * *

"Well that was a long three hours," Chelsea sighed as she and Tyler exited the campus.

"No joke," Tyler yawned and stretched. "Who knew one an could talk in the same tone for _that_ long?"

The two laughed, but realized that they were heading in the same direction.

"Are you following me?" Chelsea asked in a joking manner. "I'd hate to have the police arrest one of San Francisco's bravest for stalking lil' ol' me."

"I-I'm sorry," he apologized, though he wanted to make a witty remark to duel with her own. "My motorcycle's parked here."

"The Honda parked next to my Vespa?" She wondered. "Ooh, an STI1300 with a police upgrade. How'd you get one?"

_Okay, she knows about bikes. She just went about fifty notches on the 'Sexy as Hell' scale._ "My mom bought it for me as a graduation present. I painted it to look like a German Autobahn police motorcycle."

Chelsea admired the motor. "I am diggin' the green and white motif. And I love green. Maybe you'll give me a ride on it someday?"

"Absolutely," Tyler responded, in an almost hypnotic daze, but quickly snapped out of it. "Well, I'd have to... you know, see you again, before I can trust you on my bike."

As Chelsea put on her helmet, she wryly smiled. "Are you trying to ask me out? I thought firefighters were brave? You sound a little shaky."

"Hey!" Tyler challenged. "I'm brave, just shy. So how 'bout it? Would you like to grab a drink or something? Maybe some coffee? Or how about that famous cioppino I've heard about."

"Oh I'm a vegetarian," Chelsea said.

"I'm sorry," Tyler muttered.

Thinking he hadn't heard her, she repeated herself. "I'm a vegetarian. I don't really eat cioppino."

"I know," Tyler grinned. "I'm sorry."

Chelsea furrowed her brow. "You sure say you're sorry a lot. But if you keep that smile, I just might forgive you. See ya later. Call me up cause I'd love to grab a few drinks with you so long as you're buying."

She started the engine of her sea foam green and yellow Vespa scooter and putted off into the night time city traffic.


	3. Communication

Chapter 3

Chelsea bit her lower lip, in a futile attempt to contain the rush of ecstasy that thrust throughout her body. A wealth of both pleasure and pain throbbed between her legs, forcing her to spread them wider apart with the hopes that the tension would ease, but never stop. With every ounce of will, she fought to hold back her squeals, realizing that they weren't in her bed, nor his bed, but in a dangerous area that greatly added to the excitement.

Slowly, she opened her eyes and managed an exhausted smile to the person on top of her, sending her pleasure sensors into an overloaded state. His eyes and skin were dark. His body was big and strong, but felt safe, as if she was protected from anything and everything wrong in the world. What really drew her in was his warm smile, a smile that she would never forget.

"Tyler? We could get in a world of trouble for this," she whispered into his ear.

"So?" he replied, zeroing in on a spot on her neck and placing his lips upon it as she wrapped one of her legs around his lower back, convulsing as she felt her body reaching an orgasmic peak.

* * *

Chelsea's eyes shot open and took a few deep breaths. Her forehead was dampened by a cold sweat and some of her hair clung to the sides of her face. She sat up, watching rays of sunlight reflect off microscopic dust motes that lofted from the slight breezes caused by her breathing. 

"Whoa..." she gasped, remembering the dream, wishing it was reality.

She checked her alarm clock. _Just after six._ _Might as well get ready for the day._ She wanted to badly go back to sleep, mainly with the hopes of finishing out the dream, but she had two morning classes at San Francisco State, then work from noon to 6 in the evening.

"Okay, Chels. Just get through today, then you'll have to whole weekend to chill," she whispered to herself, slowly shuffling to the bathroom.

Since Raven, and their two other room mates, Jeannie Tomko and Summer Frye, were still out cold, more likely in an alcohol induced coma, Chelsea enjoyed the relaxing hot shower, not really caring whether or not the others had any hot water. Besides, she'd be off to her environment class before any of them woke up in the first place.

While in the shower, her thoughts went back to her dream and she found herself enjoying the high pressure shower head more than normal. As she scrubbed her chest, she noticed her nipples had become somewhat hard and a certain something between her legs felt _very_ warm.

"Oh God," she gasped, turning the faucet to the cold setting in an attempt to kill her arousal.

The now frigid water took her thoughts away from any sexual thoughts she had, but her nipples became harder, almost to the point where they began to ache.

_Maybe if he was here, he could work some of that fireman hero stuff and hose me down... Ah, damn it!_

She shut off the shower and wrapped herself in a towel.

_This is going to be the longest fucking Friday._

* * *

Tyler sat in the tiller cab of the truck, Chelsea straddling his lap with nothing between their sexes except for his turnout pants. She wore his navy blue button down uniform shirt, but was completely naked the rest of the way. Her tongue was a welcome invasion in his mouth and vice versa, both performing an oral tango of pleasurable eroticism. 

"This cab's a lot roomier than I thought," Chelsea purred, shoving her hand up under his tee shirt.

"It's a damn good thing we're the only ones here," Tyler noted, a sly smile plastered on his face.

"And why's that?" she asked.

"Because there's no way in hell we'd get away with this," he mused, then grasped the front of the uniform shirt. "Plus, I wouldn't be able to do this..."

Tyler ripped open the shirt, revealing her full frontal physique. He could feel the fire through his pants radiate from her sex, but his focus was targeted on her bare breasts, nipples erect to the point where they seemed to beg for a touch. Not wanting to disappoint, he went the extra mile, clamping his teeth onto one, just tight enough to where she could feel it, but not enough to hurt her, danced his tongue around her areola.

Cooing with lust, Chelsea wrapped her arms around his head, pressing him against her soft chest. Not wanting her other breast to feel left out, he cupped it easily filling the palm of his hand. With his index finger and thumb, he pinched the nipple, revving her sexual drive well past the danger zone.

* * *

"Damn it all to hell," Tyler cursed as he woke up. "Of all times, why now!?" 

He rolled over, in the hopes of falling back to sleep, but was greeted with a sharp, violent pain, causing him to quickly lay on his back—and taking note of the peak in his blanket just above his crotch.

_It just figures,_ he thought, clasping his hands behind his head. _Well, at least I don't need Viagra or anything._

He looked over at his clock, reading a little past six thirty in the morning.

_After a dream like that, I've got to call her. Maybe it's a sign of something that might happen. Nah, there's no way we'd do that in the truck. _

Tyler grabbed his cell phone, entered into its phone book, and found Chelsea's number, of which he entered in the previous night.

_I can't call her now. She might still be asleep._

_Maybe I should text message her. Wait... I hate text messages, plus it's for teenage girls. Screw that._

Tyler turned on his t.v. and watched the replay of yesterday afternoon's episode of Attack of the Show. And though the co-host of the show, Olivia Munn was what kept him fixated on the show for a while, his mind was stuck on Chelsea and probably would remain so for a good while.

_Alright, Tyler. Stop being a Susie and call the girl!_

He took a deep breath, then hit the CALL button on his phone.

_Please don't pick up! Please don't pick up!_

After four rings, there was and answer—her voice mail message. "_Hey! You've reached, me, Chelsea. Leave a message and I'll try to call you back... Oh, and if this is Raven about shoes, send a picture and I'll check it out._"

"Chelsea? Hi, it's Tyler. The firefighter from the grocery store and astronomy class. I-I know it's pretty early in the morning but... um... I guess, er... I just wanted to, y'know, say hi. I'll, uh, I'll try again later. Take care."

Tyler hit the POWER button, ending the call and breathing a sigh of relief. However, just hearing her voice again gave him a feeling of empowerment. It was strange, but in a welcome way. With that, he got out of bed—which was nothing more than a fully open sleeping bag with an extra blanket and pillow on the floor.

* * *

Before class, Chelsea checked her phone. 

"Unknown caller?" she asked herself. "Who would call... this..."

She checked her voice mail and listened to the awkward message, her smile growing to epic proportions with each word he said. Needing someplace to release her giddiness, she ran to an empty women's restroom stall and squealed with delight. Quickly, she saved the number.

_Okay? Should i call 'em back?_

She clutched her Mint LG Chocolate phone, wanting to call, but knew she'd wind up taking to him for hours, missing both her classes, which she needed to receive her Biology Degree.

_I know! I'll text message him._

* * *

The Sopranos Theme, _Woke Up This Morning,_ blared from Tyler's cell phone. 

"Hmm, a text message," he groaned, then lit up, "from Chelsea. Damn, she must've heard that half-ass message."

Though he had a severe disdain for text messaging—he wasn't too fond of phone communication either—Tyler opened the message and read:

_HEY!!! IT'S ME CHELSEA! I WILL TRY 2 CALL U B4 I GO 2 WORK AT NOON. HUGS N KISS ;-)_

"Yeah... still not a fan of texts," Tyler sighed, then pondered for a moment. "Man, if there was ever a time for you to be running solo, please let it be today."

Tyler dialed his best friend's, Scott "Talks" Von Weld, a San Francisco Police officer. He gained the nickname of "Talks" for two reasons: one, his name spelled backwards—though it was actually "Ttocs", and two, because he had a knack for not shutting up when it was best to do so.

"_Nekbone,_" Scott answered his phone "_What up?_"

"Talks? You alone?"

"_Yeah. My partner's grabbin' some coffee now."_

"Good. Do me a favor. Look up a Chelsea Daniels and her place of work."

"_Who the fuck is Chelsea Daniels?"_

"Man? This is a matter of life and death... just do it and I promise I'll hook you up."

"_You're about to get some cunt-gina, huh? Alight man, just a second... okay there's a shit load of Chelsea Danielses in the Bay Area. Can you give me some more info?"_

"Yeah... she's got red hair, brown eyes. Caucasian. About five-five, a buck ten maybe. She goes to her job at noon."

"_Hmm... I'm seein' a Chelsea Ophelia Daniels who works at a coffee shop down at the Embarcadero Center. Goes to SF State and City College."_

"That's who I'm lookin' for. Good lookin' out man."

"_When I get home, you owe me some true black people food."_

"I'll get my granma on the horn and have her FedEx it here. Thanks man."

"_Peace."_

Tyler grinned to himself. "And to think, people hate cops until they need one."


	4. Awful Morning, Fantastic Afternoon

**Chapter 4**

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" Chelsea cursed to herself.

After her last class, which let out around 10:50AM, she had just enough time to park her scooter and change into her work outfit—a crisp white blouse, boot-cut black trousers, and a pair of shiny black platform loafers.

"I should've just worn my uniform to class," she hissed, jogging through the crosswalk, clutching her purse and backpack.

With minutes to spare, she ran into one of the Embarcadero Center skyscrapers, and right to her job—Starbuck's Coffee. Quickly, she placed her stuff into the break room, put on her green apron, and took her spot at the register.

"Good. At least you made it, today," Hendrix Star, the assistant manager, said. "It looks like you might have to be the cashier and barista today, doll."

"What?" Chelsea gasped. "I can't do both on a Fr—"

Hendrix cut her off. "Everyone else called in and Jerri's probably coming but you know how she is. I'll try and help when I can. You're a peach!"

Before she could protest, Hendrix sauntered off to the back. Frankly, Chelsea hated when Hendrix called her "doll" or "peach." And she _really _hated when Hendrix was in charge for the fact that he didn't do a damned thing but hide in the back until the lunch rush was over.

_Fuck!_ She mentally screamed—she would have screamed it verbally but there was a mother and her kid in the shop. _Please, Jerri, get your stoner ass here._

A few minutes later, Jerri, in her normal, lackadaisical manner, strolled into the shop. As usual, her eyes were completely bloodshot and she smelled of a 'certain' herb.

"'Sup?" she groaned.

"Thank God," Chelsea sighed. "Am I glad to see you. Hendrix wanted me to do both jobs—"

"Ehrn... whatever," Jerri waved off, coughing a couple times as she prepped the espresso machine.

Chelsea could tell this was going to be a hellish day. Jerri was higher than the clouds, Hendrix was no where in sight, and it was a nice day out; meaning in addition to the business lunch crowd, there would be tons of tourists as well. Sure enough, her fears were confirmed as she watched a mass of power suit wearing executives stream from the escalators from their offices above the Starbuck's. Chelsea cracked her knuckles and rolled up her sleeves, just as a mass of people burst through the twin glass doors, each vying to be first in line, all chatting on their cell phones, which soon turned into orders varying from grande triple-shot nonfat low foam lattes to tall caramel macchiatos to simple black.

"Jerri?" Chelsea growled with a tight, fake smile and clenched teeth. "If there was ever a time you wanted to not be toasted, now would be nice."

* * *

"I love that movie," Tyler sighed lethargically, watching the end credits to _Superman Returns. _"Man... I am _such _a nerd." 

He switched the t.v back to its regular satellite setting, catching the CBS Channel 5 News at Noon weather report.

"_...Well the fog's burned off and it's another clear Friday in San Francisco..._" Meteorologist Roberta Gonzales reported.

Tyler got up and opened the blinds—only to find another apartment's window, offering a clear view inside. Its tenant was in the process of dancing what what Tyler guessed was an interpretive manner since it was slow and deliberate—but nonetheless, downright awful.

It then dawned on him that Chelsea was now at her job—the Starbuck's in One Embarcadero Center. Without haste, he grabbed his navy blue fleece pull over—the San Francisco Fire Department seal printed on its back and SFFD printed on its front—and put it. Though he _really _enjoyed wearing his fire service apparel, and the attention it brought, he knew he needed to purchase something normal to wear.

Instead of taking his motorcycle, he opted to hop the Bay Area Rapid Transit train, knowing there would be nowhere he could park it.

"Aww there he is," Maria Vitello exclaimed, checking her mail in box down at the apartment's lobby. Her voice was laden with a thick Italian accent. "You off to save someone, Bubby?"

"Nah, Misses Vitello," Tyler replied. "Just heading downtown."

"Well have fun," she smiled, the crows feet in her eyes becoming more evident. "I'll whip up a batch of gnocchi for you and Scottie."

"Best... pasta... ever!" Tyler smiled. "See ya later."

"Such a good boy," she spoke to herself, then yelled, "wish my Giovanni was like that!"

"I heard that, Ma!"

* * *

It was a quick trip on the train as Tyler disembarked at the Embarcadero Station. He, along with hundreds of others, rode the escalator up to the outside world. On the street level, the corner of Embarcadero and Market, people made their rounds, chatting with their friends and co-workers during the lunch hour. Though the marine air of the Bay Area kept everything relatively cool and comfortable, warm sun rays shone upon the city, reflecting off the glass and steel towers of the Financial District. 

"Alrighty..." Tyler thought aloud. "Four Embarcadero... which tower..."

The Embarcadero Center was a cluster of high rise commercial offices, adjacent to the bay front.

"That must be it," he said, noticing the classic Starbuck's logo—followed by the seriously long line of people waiting to get in. "Son of a bitch!"

He turned around and admired the massive San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge, then back at the busy Starbuck's. Inside, he saw one young woman working herself to death—Chelsea.

_Where the hell's everyone else?_

Tyler looked back at the gray bridge... then came up with an idea.

_Tyler, you are too brilliant for your own good._

He darted to the coffee shop and began to file past the waiting people.

"Hey!" One person began.

"Fire Department business, ma'am," Tyler said professionally. "Doing an inspection of the facility. Pardon me... Coming through... excuse me..."

* * *

"Okay... so you wanted the vanilla soy latte and the hot chocolate..." Chelsea repeated. "And you wanted the vente low foam chai... and—" 

She looked up for a moment, and her eyes lit up when she saw him make his way to the front counter.

"Looks like it's a busy one today," Tyler smiled.

"I-I wish I could talk but—" Chelsea started, but was interrupted by some businessman placing his order.

Tyler could see her becoming weary. Not to mention that the frumpy girl making the drinks seemed to be in a world of her own. "You want some help?"

"Help? Of course. But everyone called in and my manager's somewhere that's not here and Jerri's higher than a kite," Chelsea explained.

"I can help," Tyler offered.

Chelsea furrowed her brow, skeptical, but willing for anything. "How?"

A heroic smirk, the same type of smirk when Superman talks to Lois Lane, appeared on Tyler's face. "Chelsea? I'm from the Pacific Northwest. We perfected the art of fancy coffee."

Without another word, and to the shock of Chelsea as well as the other customers, Tyler vaulted himself up and over the main counter. He rolled up his sleeves and washed his hands in a nearby sink.

_Oh my God I think I might love this guy,_ she thought to herself.

"Fire away when you're ready," Tyler announced.

Chelsea couldn't believe this was happening. Reluctantly, she announced an order, to which he responded with a perfect frappuchino. _Aright... looks like we're in business._

* * *

The final rush customer left around 2PM. 

"Well... that was fun," Tyler announced, wiping his hands on a rag after getting some caramel sauce on them.

Chelsea leaned on the counter and stared at him for a long moment.

"What? Is my fly down or something?" he asked, checking his pants.

Chelsea laughed a little bit. "You are my hero. Coming out of nowhere and helping me out like that. How'd you even know I worked here?"

Tyler went wide eyed for a second. "Uh... I just happen to be walking by. And, well, I saw you looking kind of slumped... It was a coincidence? Yeah... that's the ticket. So what time do you get off... I-I mean, get off work, y'know?"

"Not 'til six in the evening," she sighed.

"Who are you and what are you doing?" Hendrix snarled in his nasal voice.

While Chelsea nervously gulped, Tyler turned around to face the pudgy, five foot tall, Hendrix. "You must be the manager of this fine establishment. Apparently I was doing your job while you were in back—" Tyler jabbed Hendrix in his flabby stomach—"Big Boy."

Behind his black rimmed glasses, Hendrix's eyes narrowed as he glared at Chelsea. "Is this a _friend_ of yours?"

A fire, hotter than any he had ever dealt with, burned within. Tyler held his hand up, preventing Chelsea from saying anything. "Actually, we've never met until today. I just happen to see this young woman single handedly deal with half the Financial District while you were in the back probably fantasizing about Simon Cowell and his man boobs when you've got a job to do!"

Chelsea covered her mouth to hide her laughter. For so long, she had wanted to tell Hendrix off, but couldn't for fear of losing her job. Even if she was fired today, it would still be a sweet victory.

"Oh," Tyler continued. "And if I find out that you've fired Chelsea, even talked to her or reprimanded her in any way, shape, or form, I'll have the entire San Francisco Fire Department and Police Department on your ass with a quickness. Hell, I'll even have Mayor Newsom on you like stick on rice. And no, not the way you'd want."

Hendrix could only drop his jaw, be it speechlessness or fear. Either way, Chelsea was overjoyed to see him simply turn heel and walk back to wherever he had emerged from earlier.

"Wow," Chelsea gasped.

"And to think I'm the shy, quiet type," Tyler remarked. "Anyway, you don't get off until six, huh."

"Yeah."

Tyler nodded and pursed his lips as he thought He then pointed to a park bench across the street along the sea wall of the waterfront. "Okay. See that bench over there? I'm gonna sit there and wait for you... and enjoy the killer view."

Chelsea looked at her watch, then back at him. "For four hours?"

"Yep. See ya in four."

She watched him jog across the roadway and park himself onto the park bench.

"He was kinda cute," Jerri noted, her voice dragging. "Does he work here now?"

Chelsea watched Tyler, as his gaze was affixed onto the Bay Bridge and the ships that traversed San Francisco Bay. For helping her out in such a huge way, she wanted to plant a wet kiss right on his lips, maybe even make her dream from earlier this morning, come true.

**Three Hours Later**

With two grande caramel and chocolate frappuchino's in hand, Chelsea approached the park bench where Tyler sat, though he was fast asleep.

_Well, at least he doesn't snore._

She set the frozen beverages on the bench, then placed a soft hand on his knee.

"Mmm... five more hours, Mom," Tyler muttered.

"This should wake you up," she grinned, not quite sure if she should do this, however.

Cautiously, she slithered her hand from his knee and up his thigh. Instantly, Tyler's eyes snapped open and he inhaled sharply.

"Sorry," she apologized.

"No problem," he yawned, then stretched, catching a glimpse of his watch in the process. "You're early."

Chelsea sat down. "Yeah. Some of the people in the shift after mine came early. So I said the hell with this and left."

"Nice," Tyler laughed. "Your manager didn't give you and trouble, did he?"

"Hendrix? No. I think you scared him to death."

Tyler clasped his hands behind his head and grinned slyly, looking out towards Yerba Buena Island. "Excellent."

"Well okay then, Mister Burns. Frappuchino?"

"Thanks."

Chelsea handed him one while she took the other. "It's the least I could do. You have no clue how much your help meant... to me."

"Hey, it was nothing—" Tyler waved off.

"No," Chelsea interrupted. "If I could, I'd give you half my pay check. Something to pay you back."

"Oh don't worry," he grinned. "You'll be getting my bill pretty soon. But seriously, it was no problem. Anyone woulda helped."

Chelsea set her hand back on his knee, nearly causing some of Tyler's drink to go down the wrong way. "Yeah, anyone could have helped. But anyone didn't. _You_ did. But, then again, you help everyone. It's like second nature, y'know."

Tyler looked at her and cocked an eyebrow. In reality, he had just come to check her out. Helping her was just a product of opportunity, but not his true intention.

"So..." she said after a long period of silence between the two. "Well, after drinkin' this, I'll be up all night."

"Yeah... up..." Tyler muttered. "I-I mean..."

Tyler's thoughts went to his dream from that morning. The fact that he could see her black bra through her blouse didn't help matters either.

"These frappe's are good," Chelsea noted, making small talk.

"For six bucks a piece, I think they should be," Tyler said, to which she laughed.

* * *

"Girl? Where you been?" Raven asked as Chelsea walked back into her apartment. 

She noticed a strange smile on Chelsea's face; one that was both awkward, but had the look as if something wonderful happened.

"Rae?" Chelsea grinned, her arms wrapped around her backpack. "I think I might me in love."

"Wit' who?" Raven demanded to know.

Raven knew exactly who, but she wanted to hear Chelsea say his name.

"He came down to the coffee shop and helped me out."

"What 'chu talkin' 'bout, Chels? You mean... did you and him have a quickie at the Starbuck's!?"

"Rae! Of course not! I mean he actually helped me at work."

Chelsea filled Raven in on her work day as well as the time spent afterwards.

**Meanwhile**

Scott lounged on the couch, sipping a Fat Tire Ale—his third so far. The fact that Scott became a police officer was a shock to just about everyone he knew. Since high school—the two became friends while playing Freshman Football—Scott usually indulged in marijuana as well as having a rotation of girlfriends. Mentality wise, the two were polar opposites as Tyler was colloquially referred to as 'Superman' for being a virtual boy scout and strictly by the book, while Scott... well, wasn't.

"'Sup," Tyler greeted as he walked in.

"Nekbone," Scott responded, now in his street clothes—a white tee shirt and a pair of jeans. "You find that girl?"

"Yeah."

"You hit it?"

"Nah. Got a free frappuchino, though."

Scott shrugged. "Right on, right on. Misses V gave us some pasta."

"I know." Tyler said, grabbing a fork and digging into the contents in the yellow pot.

"So? You gonna see her again?"

"Yeah."

"She got pretty feet?"

Tyler cocked his eyebrow. "Dude? What's your deal with chicks' feet?"

Scott sat up. "Hey, man. All men like a girl with pretty feet. And a girl with nice lookin' feet has a nice pu—"

"Dude!" Tyler interrupted. "You've really gotta work on your foot fetish. I mean, nice feet are good, but you are fixated on them and it's freakin' the hell outta me."

Scott stared at Tyler for a minute. "And your point is?"

Tyler sighed. "Fine. If I see her feet, I'll take a picture. And just for the record, I'm sure they're awesome 'cause everything else I've seen on her is awesome."

"Well if everything's awesome, then I'm gonna wanna see," Scott added.

* * *

**A Little Note: I don't know about you guy, but I NEED music when I jot this stuff down. Particularly for the chapter before this, I recommend listening to the song Devil by Stereophonics. Some other songs are C'mon, C'mon by The Von Bondies, Sweet Emotion by Aerosmith, and just about everything else on my Ipod.**

**Also, some of you may notice that I use actual streets and places in the Bay Area. Thank God for MSN Maps and Wikipedia for half the info. However, if there is anyone from the San Francisco Area checkin' this story out, and they know of some cool LOCAL places and other stuff that most don't know about, please fill me in. Thanks Guys!**


	5. Workplace Visitation

Can you believe I forgot to do the disclaimer stuff? Shame on me! Anyway, if you recognize it, chances are it doesn't belong to me. Okay, now you can read, then check out the other cool stories and such. Go... Now!**

* * *

Chapter 5 **

"For the love of God!" Wally cried. "Would something catch on fire so we can put it out?"

"Hell," Enzo Tulane, a firefighter on Engine 2, scoffed. "We'll be the one puttin' it out while you and the other truckies run around inside like chickens with their heads cut off."

Wally huffed. "You're just bitter 'cause chicks dig the ladder truck."

Tyler chuckled, knocking fists with his counterpart. "He's got 'cha there, Enz."

"Speakin' of getting' chicks, Wally filled me in on you and him pickin' up some at the store last week," Enzo noted. "So d'you get some this weekend with her?"

"Of course not," Tyler cried. "I've only known her for a week."

"Big fucking deal!" Wally exclaimed, throwing his hands up in disappointment. "I've gotten some after the initial introduction."

"Man, I wasn't raised like that," Tyler informed. "And half the cooter I've seen you go after looks like they've got gangrene down there. Frankly, I'd like to keep my junk in perfect working condition if I get married and have kids."

"Aww, how cute," Wally mocked. "Tnek wants to have lil' ankle biters."

"Yeah... kids is alright. But have you seen 'em bein' born?" Enzo said. "It ain't pleasant."

Tyler agreed. "I remember back in high school health watching a video of a baby being born. Nastiest thing... ever."

"Speakin' of baby," Wally whispered. "Check them—"

Before he could finish his observation of a group of young women walking by across the street, the station's alarm blared, snapping the personnel and everyone else within earshot, to attention.

"_Engine Two, Engine Four, Engine Twenty-Eight; Rescue One; Truck Two, Truck Thirteen: Respond. Report of fire at Embarcadero BART/ MUNI Station."_

"Finally!" Wally cried.

Without haste, Tyler, along with the other firefighters, threw on their black and yellow turnout gear. Making sure he had everything, Tyler hopped into the tiller cab of Tuck 2 just as its thunderous motor roared to life.

Engine Two pulled out first, its siren shattering the calm early afternoon rush hour within the Nob Hill district. Next, Truck Two's lights strobed brilliant red, white, amber, and blue as Jamie fired up its sirens. Once cleared of the station, Tyler clutched his steering wheel and made sure to synchronize his turns with Jamie's up front.

Though Truck Two—along with the other aerial ladder trucks in the city—was basically ladder toting semi, it was highly maneuverable for the significant length, easily able to weave through traffic and narrow, densely packed routes—things synonymous of San Francisco. What made the truck so capable was the steerable rear axle, called the tiller. While Jamie had physical control of the apparatus in the main cab, it was Tyler's job to operate the rear axle, enabling the tight turns required for traversing through much of the city.

From his cab, Tyler saw a small boy, no older than five or six years old, standing at the corner; his mother clutching his hand tightly to keep him in place. With his free hand, the boy waved feverishly. In response, Jamie made a couple sharp blasts of the truck's air horn, while Tyler returned his wave.

Within a couple minutes, the truck turned right onto Herb Caen Way, entering the Financial District. Since he was considerably higher than his counterparts, Tyler had a spectacular view of San Francisco Bay, as well as the prominent towers of downtown, including the famous Transamerica Pyramid. He then glanced at Tower Four of the Embarcadero Center—zeroing in on the Starbuck's, hoping to see Chelsea doing her thing. Quickly, he snapped back to attention. Once this was all over, he could fantasize about Chelsea later.

* * *

At the subway station, hundreds of people vying to get home from waited, many impatiently, as they were herded away from the Embarcadero Station's entrance. Battalion Chief Todd Bliss and the Heavy Rescue Rig from station one—the first to arrive on scene—approached the members of Station 2 as they rolled up in their vehicles.

"What's the situation?" Lieutenant Aimee asked, emerging from the front passenger side of Truck 2, the others grabbing their gear, ready to set to work.

"Nothing," Bliss groaned. "Some dumb ass tossed a lit cigarette into a bathroom trash can."

Lieutenant Gary Matenoupolis, the officer of Engine 2, walked up. "Is it still flaring?"

"The sprinkler system took care of it for the most part," Bliss stated. "But I want a couple to go down there and check."

Jamie, Lacey, Tyler, and Wally, all listened in, and joined their friends on Engine Two.

"This is ridiculous," Bill Lee, driver of the Engine sighed.

"Well, this was a spectacular waste of time," Gary sighed as he and Aimee approached the other firefighters. "Enz? You and me'll head down there just to check things out. Make sure there's no smoking toilet paper or anything."

"Meaning we get to head back to the house," Aimee added in to her troupe.

As they packed their tools away, Wally noticed Tyler's sight was plastered to one of the nearby towers. "Dude? You've been lookin' at that building for a while. It's not like lookin' at it will make the thing catch fire."

"Chelsea works at the Starbuck's there," Tyler said absentmindedly.

"Oh..." Wally hummed in thought, then announced, "Aimee? We need to make a coffee run. Right now! There's a Starbuck's in Four Embarcadero. Tnek says they got the best in the city!"

Tyler had half a mind to smack the hell out of Wally with his ax, but knew it was his fault for saying anything in the first place.

"That's cool with me," Aimee stated, removing her turnout coat and helmet.

"Remind me to throw you in front of a bus," Tyler growled through clenched teeth.

"What?" Wally gasped. "You know you wanna get your redhead fix in."

Tyler removed his gloves and shoved them into one of the pockets of his turnout coat. "Mister Rooth? I _strongly_ suggest you sleep with one eye open tonight."

"Oh you love me too much," Wally hollered, walking to the front of the truck.

* * *

Chelsea stood at her post, taking cash from a customer and sending them on their way with a friendly smile. It had been a fairly routine Wednesday; not too light and not too busy. The fact that everyone who needed to be here, however, made the day feel like a breeze. There was now a full staff—six people, plus Hendrix, who was actually being productive.

"Oh God," Hendrix gasped and panicked, looking outside at a fire truck parking along Clay Street, next to the open space of Embarcadero Plaza. "I didn't do anything! I-I mean, I did do stuff... but it was work stuff! Oh man, I'm screwed!"

Chelsea squinted, focusing on the T-2 placard on its hydraulic operated ladder. She turned her attention to the rear, and sure enough, there he was, decked out in his full fireman garb. Four more people emerged from the truck and casually crossed the busy street as if they were rock stars, also in their fire attire as well.

Quickly, Chelsea made sure she was presentable. Her hair was tied back into a pony tail, with the exception of the locks that framed her face. She hiked up her khaki mini skirt upwards and took a tug at her black stockings.

_It's not like he can stay for long. Just chill out, Chelsea._

* * *

"Well, well, well..." Wally chastised. "Looks like it's our lucky day, huh, Tnek?"

Tyler was too preoccupied staring at _her_. Her focus was placed on a few customers, but she soon looked in his direction, revealing a small smirk as she went back to her task.

"Tnek!" Wally yelled, jarring Tyler from his stupor. "Stop thinkin' about hittin' it and _go_ hit it!"

"Leave him be," Lacey hissed. "Seriously, though. Who's this girl, Tnek?"

"The red head behind the counter," Tyler admitted, the others looking at Chelsea.

"Not bad, Kent," Aimee gasped. "If you screw it up, tell her to come my way."

"Atta boy," Jamie praised, patting Tyler on his back.

"Now, now, children," Wally said, imitating an elementary school teacher. "We mustn't set a bad impression for dear sweet Tyler. He is, after all, a mama's boy and wants to court Miss Redhead Sexiness properly."

"Damn straight," Tyler stated proudly. "And any self respecting, red blooded, God fearing, black man—such as myself—is a mama's boy."

"Well since you're a 'proud black man of the people,' why's your hair look exactly like Zach Braff's? And why don't you use ghetto slang like they do in Oakland?" Wally asked.

Tyler rolled his eyes. "not all black folks speak Ebonics. Hell, look at Colin Powell or Bryant Gumbel. Even Barry Bonds when he's not on a 'roid rage." Tyler explained. "And as for my hair, it's a pain trying to comb through nappy hair. Now I dare you to ask the same thing to someone in Oakland. You'd get your wonder bread, mid-western ass kicked three ways to Sunday."

"I dare you to tell Barry he does 'roids," Jamie added in. "Even if it's clear as day."

"True that," Lacey said, laughing so hard a few tears streamed from her eyes.

The five entered the coffee shop and causally waited as a couple of tourists, each wearing tacky I Love San Francisco or Fisherman's Wharf tee shirts, decided on what to order. After a few minutes, they finally chose their drinks, payed, and stepped aside.

"Took 'em long enough," Jamie huffed.

"Tyler," Chelsea smiled. "Don't worry. Hendrix's been working hard."

"Good," Tyler said, then glared at the assistant manager, who desperately tried to look as busy as humanly possible. "These are the guys: Lieutenant Aimee, Jamie, Lacey, and you remember Wally. Guys? This is Chelsea Daniels."

"How could she not remember me and my prize winning smile," Wally purred.

Aimee shook her head in disgust. "Do you ever turn it off."

* * *

The next day—Thursday, was significantly busier, though there were still no fires. The members of Truck 2 backed the fifty foot long apparatus into his bay; Lacey and Wally guiding them in with hand signals. They had just returned from a minor call: an elderly man took a rough fall in his home. That was basically the extent of their calls, although there was a significant auto accident involving a bus at the corner of Geary and Market Streets around 6 in the morning.

Tyler grabbed a cleaning rag and a tin of polish and proceeded to clean the bronze bell to a highly reflective luster. Once he was satisfied, he parked himself on the front bumper of the truck, enjoying the mild temperature of the late afternoon. He pulled out his Ipod from his pocket and hoped there wouldn't be anymore calls until his shift was over in another hour.

"Hey you!" a _familiar_ voice called out.

Tyler furrowed his brow and looked up... only to find Chelsea standing there.

"Wha-what are you doing here?" Tyler asked with shock, but gladness to see her. "I-I mean, how'd you know I worked here?"

"Well I just happen to be in the neighborhood," Chelsea leisurely stated, though quickly realized that he wasn't buying a word of it. "Okay, I looked up your station on the Internet. Plus, I don't live that far from here—" she pointed northward along Powell Street—"in fact, my apartment's right up that way. Besides, you've been to my job. Twice."

"Wow," Tyler gasped. "Not a bad choice of living."

Chelsea rolled her eyes. "I guess. But I'm dying to get out and get my own place. But God knows when that'll happen."

"Is your friend Raven that bad of a roomy?" Tyler asked.

"Well no. Not at all really," she explained. "It's my other two room mates. They're either passed out drunk, or they bring home their boyfriends and... well, they do their thing. All damned night. And wind up drunk on the floor, blocking the way. Ugh, it's just stupid."

"Ouch," Tyler sympathized. "My friend, who's my room mate now, kinda went through the same thing, but his unwanted visitors were cats that his old roomy, Nate, and his girlfriend, took in. The bad thing about those cats were that they weren't house trained so that apartment was like a bio hazard. Cat crap everywhere."

Chelsea cringed.

"Yeah." Tyler nodded, then laughed. "I used to go in there just to boost my self esteem it was so bad in that place. But, hey, you wanna come in? Check out the—" before he could finish, the station's alarm went off. "Hold that thought."

"_Engine Two, Engine Forty One, Rescue Six; Respond: Report of minor car fire.6th and Folsom."_

Without thinking, Tyler grabbed Chelsea and pulled her clear of Engine 2's bay.

"Do you have to go?" She asked.

Tyler shook his. "No. Just the engine."

Chelsea looked at him puzzled. "I thought you drove the engine."

"Me? Nah."

Engine Two roared from it's bay, lights strobing and sirens blaring. As they did so, Bill shot Tyler a look of approval, to which Tyler small salute which morphed into a point of his index finger.

"Anyway. That was the engine." Tyler continued, then led her into the station. "This big boy here is the truck."

Chelsea scratched her head. "Aren't they both trucks? And don't they both have engines?"

"Well yeah," Tyler said. "The engines are usually called pumpers since they get the water from the hydrants. The ladder truck's is called 'the truck' because instead of carrying hoses and a water pump, we have that big ol' honkin' ladder."

"Oh..." Chelsea breathed, still not quite sure. "Have you ever had to climb the ladder?"

"Oh yeah," Tyler nodded, looking up at the white telescoping equipment. "I remember the first time I climbed it. I was scared to death. But I got over it and now it's like walkin' up stairs."

"That is... so awesome," she sighed, admiring the truck.

"Eh, it's just a job," Tyler said, then admitted, "aww who'm I kidding. It's one of the coolest things ever!"

"I'll bet," Chelsea smiled, enjoying his childlike enthusiasm. "So I saw you in that back cab. What's it for?"

"Let me show you," Tyler offered.

He led her to the rear of the truck, then took her hand, and helped her climb up into the tiller cab, where she took a seat. Once again, Tyler's thoughts went to that dream he had last week. Interestingly enough, half the staff was out on call while his counterparts for his unit were nowhere in sight. In a perfect world, this would be a golden opportunity.

"So what's this steering wheel for if there's one up front?" Chelsea asked, placing her hands upon it.

"Well, it controls the back axle of the truck," Tyler explained. "It's kinda like a rudder on a boat, y'know. While the driver up front controls the main driving, I make sure the back doesn't skid around wildly, hitting someone. Plus, it helps with really tight turns."

Chelsea nodded, then checked her watch. "I'd better get going. I don't wanna be in your way if you get a call."

"Oh it's no problem," Tyler smiled, taking her hand, and helping her back down to the floor. "So will I see you at class tonight?"

"Nah. There's an episode of My Name Is Earl coming on that I missed and I wanna see it," she explained. "And I haven't gotten Tivo yet."

"Oh..." Tyler sighed. "Well, yeah. I do love that show. I should probably give you your hand back, huh?"

_No! _Chelsea thought to herself. _Take it and me._ "Oh, I-I didn't even notice."

Tyler released his grip on her oh so soft hand, though he _really _didn't want to. He led her out, the sun beginning its descent into as the sky was starting to change colors.

"Oh... before you go," Tyler said, and grabbed something from a nearby desk—a golden sticker in the shape of a fire fighter's badge. "We give these out to kids who stop by and even though you're not a kid, I'd thought you'd like one... to remember your visit. Here, I'll put it on for ya."

Tyler removed the sticker from its wax paper backing. He then moved some of Chelsea's flowing hair from in front of her chest. Next, Tyler secured the sticker onto her chest, then went wide eyed, realizing exactly where his hands were.

_Good God._

"Well... um... you're now an honorary member of the SFFD." Tyler choked.

Chelsea felt as if she was floating on cloud nine, en route to Heaven. Tyler had just copped a feel of her breast, by accident, no doubt, but she wished it had lasted longer than three seconds. "Looks like your friends are coming to congratulate me."

Tyler turned around to find the others peering emerging from the station, Wally's fist triumphantly in the air.

"Oh great," Tyler groaned.

"Tnek!" Jamie and Wally cried, bowing at their waists. "We're not worthy! We're not worthy!"

"You copped a feel," Aimee laughed. "Now you've gotta ask her out. That's an order."

Tyler turned back to Chelsea, who found this to be hysterical. "Well'p, the Lieutenant just gave me an order. So... would you like to g-go out? With me tomorrow? It-it doesn't even have to be a real date. It can be a casual thing. I can come down to your job, scare the mess out of Hendrix again, then we can go grab some chow, or catch a movie. Maybe grab a drink."

She pressed her index finger against his lips, knowing he'd probably ramble on for a while, even though she liked hearing his voice. "I'd thought you'd never ask. I've love to go out with you."

"Awesome!" Tyler said in a high pitch, though it was muffled since her finger prevented him from opening his mouth.

Chelsea removed her finger from his lips, kissed her fingers, then walked off. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Once she was across the street, Wally ran up behind Tyler, nearly tackling him in the process. "Taught 'em everything he knows."

"Yeah," Jamie scoffed. "Everything _not_ to do."

"_Ay Dios Mio_, she's gorgeous, Chico," Lacey gushed, then glared at Wally. "Don't screw it up by listening to Gringo Joe!"

Tyler watched Chelsea continue to walk northward along Powell. Tomorrow wouldn't be able to come soon enough.


	6. Before The Date: Chelsea's Version

**Chapter 6**

Chelsea managed all of an hour of sleep the whole night, but she didn't care one bit. From her window, the sky was a milky white from the typical morning fog that socked in much of the city.

"I hope it's a nice one, today," she whispered to herself, swinging her legs out from her bed.

In a no-thought state of mind, she trudged through the hallway, but stopped, seeing there was _some _guy passed out on the floor.

_What the..._

Chelsea cringed and stepped over the guy, no doubt an associate of Jeannie or Summer. Uncertain of what else, or who else, she might find, she tip toed to the bathroom, in the process, finding pairs of undergarments that didn't match hers, nor Raven's. There were two more pairs in front of the bathroom door—both _men's_ boxers.

_I've got a feeling I should just turn back and leave._

She decided against her gut feeling, and opened the door—

—And found Jeannie, plus two other guys, all completely in the nude, out cold in a position as if they were having a threesome while sleeping.

"Aaah! My eyes!" she screamed, darting back to her room and slamming the door. "I can't take this shit anymore!"

Quickly, Chelsea put on a pair of pants, her slip-on sneakers, and a sweatshirt. Next, she put her work uniform and her school books in a duffel, then grabbed her keys, and stormed out.

"Mmm... where are you goin'?" Summer groggily asked, looking plastered as she lay on the sofa.

"The hell outta here," Chelsea hissed, slamming the door behind her._ Why do my Fridays always start out like this?_

* * *

Being out of her apartment was already a relief as she started up her scooter. She had some time before her first class, plus she longed for a nice, hot shower to at least give her some comfort. She decided to ride to her parents' house, truly _home_. By now, her dad was probably out on a morning jog while her mom did yoga in the house's basement.

Luckily, home was in the Haight-Ashbury district—fairly close and not far off her path to class.

As it was still early, rush hour hadn't began yet, allowing Chelsea to arrive within a few minutes. She noticed that her parents' car, a burnt orange 2006 Toyota Sienna, was gone.

"Hello?" she called out, opening the mahogany front door. "Anyone home?"

There was a mass of mail on the floor and the house had the appearance as if there wasn't anyone using it for a couple days.

"Mom and Dad must've went to one of those nudie beaches in Napa," Chelsea concluded. _I wonder if Tyler likes those kind of places? Mmm... naked with only his helmet..._

Chelsea pushed those mental images to the back of her head, out of sight, but ready for a moments notice. She walked upstairs, glad to see that nothing had changed since she moved out—and there were no unwanted guests. She started up the shower, stripped out of her clothing, and hopped in, letting the steam work its therapeutic, relaxing, magic.

Closing her eyes, she began to fantasize about two strong arms wrapping around her body; powerful palms and long, articulate fingers, massaging her stomach, causing her to giggle a tad. He rested his chin on her shoulder, softly nibbling on her ear, all the while, snaking one of his hands _lower_ on her torso. In response, Chelsea arched her back, pressing her soft, yet at the same time, firm, rear, into him. Also, she placed her hand on top of his own meandering palm, guiding it towards her womanhood; a rush of heat, hotter than the steaming water beating upon them, flared within her body.

Chelsea opened her eyes, finding the dark skinned hands were gone, but the in-heat feeling remained. The pressure from the shower head wasn't helping, causing a weak feeling in her knees. Her fantasy had some semblance of reality as her hand was within striking distance of pleasuring herself.

_Maybe this evening._

Once clean, she got dressed, then checked her mom's closet for a pair of nice shoes to wear. Her black loafers were okay for work, but, recently, she went in for a manicure and pedicure in Chinatown with Raven—who was now visiting her father in Washington D.C.

"Chels, most guys have a thing for pretty toes," Raven told her. "Some just don't wanna admit it while others obsess with 'em."

She wasn't sure about Tyler's stance on her feet, since he had never seen them because she always wore her Converse low tops or her platform loafers. Either way, after dropping a hundred dollars, she was going to make sure he looked at her toes and the small white lotus blossoms painted on them.

"Ooh, these are nice," she gushed, grabbing a pair of tan Xhilaration wedge thong sandals. Chelsea then picked up a pair of Cole Haan Skyler Slide heeled sandals. "Oh these'll be perfect."

She tried them on, noticing they were a little too big, but worked very well with her work attire, which she planned to wear since it was just going to be a friendly get together, plus by unbuttoning a button and rolling up her sleeves, she was sure Tyler would approve. It also helped that her bra was, once again, black and clearly visible.

* * *

Because her last class dismissed early, Chelsea decided to drop by her apartment for a few minutes. Not even batting an eye at the intruders, who were still exactly where they were when she ran out around 6 in the morning—it was now nearly 11am—she went straight for her room. She decided to change underwear, from her regular white cotton panties, to a brand new black thong.

_Always be prepared._

From what she gathered, Tyler wasn't the type of guy to push things too far. Sure, he would put on a heroic or humorous front, but it was easy, at least for her, to see the shyness that was truly him. Still though, even shy guys would jump at the opportunity to have sex if it were placed in front of them, free for the taking.

Chelsea remembered her old boyfriend, Danny Warren. He asked her out for her high school junior prom, and they subsequently stayed together for three years. He had even taken her virginity after their senior prom. However, as it was their first time, it was awkward, considerably painful, and over in less than two minutes. The two tried once more before he left for college at Illinois State. Though it was a better experience than the first, it was over after a whopping five minutes.

Not the mind blowing love making she had always heard about from other students.

Once Danny left, they attempted a long-distance relationship, which lasted for a year. However, their college commitments—classes, internships, work—prevented them from traveling to see each other in what little downtime they could acquire. Realizing that there was no way it would work, they mutually decided to go their separate ways.

A few months after the break up, she began dating, mostly after the goading brought on by Raven. In the years since, she went on dates with a total of five guys, only one of them more than once. All of them, however, were either chauvinistic jerks who only conversed with her breasts, or were too boring to be worth anything. One guy even had the gall to talk to her about insurance liability, until he saw some other woman with larger breasts. He ultimately left Chelsea behind and talked to the other lady... about insurance liability.

Though he was shy, she _knew_ Tyler was different. Unlike the other guys, he actually looked her in the eye when he talked to her. However, she did noticed he enjoyed putting that badge sticker on her chest a little too much, but there was no harm done. She enjoyed it a little too much too as her nipples became stiff when she walked back to her apartment. What was even more amusing was the fact that his coworkers saw everything and ribbed him with hoots and hollers. Plus, his Lieutenant literally forced him to ask her out, and though she was positive it would happen sooner or later, it was nice for Tyler to get it over with before she went crazy with anxiety.

* * *

At work, life went back to its normal pace, with tons of customers, many of them the impatient business type. As they were fully staffed now, Chelsea could care less about how quickly Joe and Jane Businessperson got their chai tea or their Italian espresso. Everybody was finally at work on a Friday, she scored an A on one of her tests in her geology class, but most importantly, she had a date.

The heavens were also cooperating with her as the pea-soup thick fog had completely burned away, leaving behind only high, puffy clouds and bright blue skies. The weather report even said it would be around 75 degrees, fairly warm for the city in mid-Spring.

4:30 rolled around and she saw the familiar sight of Tyler, sporting his usual garb of a navy blue fire department fleece, black pants, and black shoes, make his way to the store. However, there was someone following him.

A small, pale, little boy with orange hair and freckles.

_He's got a kid?_

She pondered for a moment, noticing the child, in no way, resembled Tyler. Her mind raced through the possibilities, but she hoped and prayed that he wasn't about to say that he _had_ a girlfriend. She didn't want that kind of hurt, especially from him.


	7. Before The Date: Tyler's Version

**Chapter 7**

Around 3:30 in the afternoon, Tyler checked himself in the mirror; making sure his hair was neat, yet messy at the same time, and his clothing—his typical black pants and navy Fire Department fleece pullover—were in presentable shape.

_Shoes, check. Wallet, check. Cell phone, check. Condoms... condoms? Hmm.. check. Thanks a lot, Talks. Well, it's not like I'll need 'em, but never hurts to be prepared._

He took a deep breath, trying to maintain a calm demeanor, but, nonetheless, shaking like a leaf in a stiff breeze.

"Alright, Tyler," he spoke to himself. "This'll be a simple walk in the park. We'll just grab some food, maybe a drink or two, and leave it at that."

He knew if he followed that plan, all of the fire fighters back at the station, save for Lacey, would never let him live it down.

_I could try and make a move... but I don't have any moves. Man, I want to though. No! I can't. Tyler, just keep your wits and your dick in check and all will be good. It would be better if I could smash—no! Damn it all to hell! Come on, kid. Think... what would Jesus do?_

Tyler focused his mind on anything that didn't involve Chelsea, her amazing curves, and anything involving eroticism. It was nearly impossible. Right then, he decided this get together would be a session of getting to know the mental side of Chelsea.

_That's what Jesus would do. Talk to the girl; chat her up a bit. Then he'd... No he wouldn't! Lord? Forgive me for that statement._

"I'm screwed," Tyler groaned. "Y'know what? The hell with planning. Just wing it like you did through high school, flight school, the fire academy, and just about everything else in life."

Tyler nodded. By not expecting anything, whatever happened wouldn't be a disaster. Without wasting anymore time, he grabbed his keys and a pack of Altoids, then set off to the BART Station at the corner of 16th and Mission.

* * *

On board the packed train, Tyler found himself just reminiscing about life up to now. With this date, it would be his first in nearly five years. He remembered his first girlfriend, Kelly Martin, whom he actually met over the Internet back in his junior year of high school. Somehow, the two just clicked and they managed to remain in a communicative relationship through sending love emails and text messages to each other for over a year. During the summer, just after Tyler graduated from high school, he went down to Houston, Texas, where Kelly lived, to see her. However, Kelly had drastically changed from the pictures that she had shown Tyler; she had gained fifty pounds, letting herself go. However, Tyler was always taught to never judge people by their appearance.

About, eight months later, during Spring Break for college, Kelly made her way to Tyler's hometown, Portland, Oregon, where the two lost their virginity to each other. To say it was awkward, for him, at least, was an understatement. In fact, Tyler openly admitted that he had no clue what he was doing. Their second and third times having sex went smoother, with Tyler getting into the rhythm of things. However, he started to feel the connection between them start to deteriorate. Also, he quickly found out how lazy Kelly was as she was content to lay in her hotel bed all day, watching BET or MTV, whereas Tyler wanted to show her around the city.

A week after her departure from Portland, Tyler distanced himself from her, realizing that he wasn't ready for a relationship, but he had no way of knowing how to tell Kelly without breaking her heart. Since it was his dream to become a commercial pilot for a major airline, he took as many aviation related courses as possible. By then, Kelly had realized that Tyler was distancing himself, so she decided it was time for the two to go their separate ways by sending him a final email.

Though it hurt him that he broke her heart, Tyler was, in all honesty, ecstatic to be free, as he now had no burdens to stop his drive to become a pilot—especially with the help and support him mom gave him by cosigning on a significant college loan. However, he now had to endure a $350 payment for the next thirty years. Or until he could find the time to get it refinanced.

On the topic of his family, his mom was the only parent he had. Tyler did know exactly who, and where, his biological father was, but to him, his father was nothing more than 'some guy mom knows.'

"He had his chance after I was born," Tyler once said to his mom after hearing a message left by his father. "He's about 20 years too late to start now."

It was a touchy subject for Tyler, as he never talked about father and usually dodged questions directed in that route. But if there was anything that Tyler did pick up, it was how _not _to live a life by trying to survive off of disability checks, marijuana, and numerous women lured into bed.

Tyler did have plenty of father figures, however, the two most prominent being his Grandfather, who died from heart failure when Tyler was fifteen. If there was anyone in the world Tyler wanted to emulate, it was him as he was a very spiritual man. So far, the people at his grandparents' church, said he was just as benevolent as his grandpa. However, as a 24 year old, Tyler knew he needed work on his spirituality side, but he knew he was being watched over during each fire he had to respond to.

* * *

Tyler was jarred from his thoughts as the BART Train rolled into Embarcadero Station. He took a look at his watch—4:21pm.

"Well... better early I guess," he said to himself, disembarking from the Blue Line—Dublin/Pleasanton train.

The underground platform was packed with people anxious to get to their destinations and enjoy the rest of their Friday. Through the chaos of citizens, Tyler saw a small boy, pale as a ghost with orange-red hair and freckles dotting his face, sitting alone on a bench, crying his eyes out. A few people looked his way, but continued with their business.

Tyler walked over to the small boy, who couldn't have been older than seven, and knelt down before him. "Hey, pal. What's wrong?"

The boy looked at the San Francisco Fire Department screen print on his fleece. "A-are you a f-fireman?"

Tyler nodded. "So what's your name?"

"Jimmy."

"My name's Tyler. You wouldn't happen to be Jimmy Neutron... would you?"

The little boy managed a grin between his sniffles, revealing his two front teeth were gone. "No! How do you know about Jimmy Neutron? You're a grown-up."

"Psh!" Tyler scoffed, waving his hand. "Jimmy Neutron's like one of the greatest shows on Nickelodeon."

"I like Spongebob Squarepants," Jimmy proudly stated.

"So do I," Tyler said, then imitated the voice of Squidward, one of the cartoon's characters. "Especially that Squidward."

Jimmy cackled, nearly choking. Tyler was glad to get him laughing, as he now had his trust. Hopefully, the little boy would be able to give him some answers.

"So what happened to your parents, Jimmy?"

The boy's gaze went to his white Nikes. "Well a bunch of people cut in front of me and my mommy and daddy."

"And you got separated from them," Tyler concluded. "You didn't see them in the station?"

Jimmy shook his head no. "They got on a train and headed that way." He pointed westward.

_Good. They're not in the Transbay Tube, on their way to Oakland._

Tyler looked around his surroundings. "Well'p, Jim. This place is gonna get a lot more crowded. How about you and i head topside and find a police officer."

The two made their way to an escalator and emerged on Market Street, which was gridlocked with cars, buses, and a few MUNI Metro Light Rail Trains. Making sure Jimmy was at his side, Tyler used his height to search for a cop, but had no luck. _Figures. _He looked towards Four Embarcadero, where Chelsea was working.

"Jimmy? I've got an idea. My friend is a police officer and I'm gonna give him a call. Can you tell me your last name?"

"It's Whitley."

"Sure it's not Neutron?"

Jimmy laughed some more. "I'm sure."

Tyler smiled, then pulled out his cell phone. He was trained to calm kids in times of crises. Plus, it helped that he was basically a big kid himself.

"Talks? It's Nek. We've got a lil' situation."

"_So do I, man." _Scott answered. _"Some parents lost their kid—"_

"That kid wouldn't happen to be Jimmy Whitley?" Tyler wondered. "Kinda short. Pale. Red hair and freckles."

Scott said something incoherent, then went back to his phone. _"That's exactly who we're looking for! How'd you find 'em? Where are you?"_

"Market Street. Just outside of the BART Station," Tyler informed. "But it's pretty busy around here. We can meet up in the Starbucks in Four Embarcadero."

"_Right on, Nekbone,_" Scott exclaimed. "_We'll see ya there."_

Tyler hit the POWER button on his phone. "Well'p, we found your parents. I don't know about you, though, but I could go for a milkshake. How 'bout you?"

"Yeah," Jimmy happily growled.

Tyler led him across the busy Market Street and the two made their way to the five hundred and eight foot tall tower which housed their destination. Soon, Tyler could see _her_, working away at the cash register and taking orders. She happened to look in his direction. Her gaze, however, seemed strange, as if she knew she was about to receive news she didn't want to hear.

_No way. She thinks Jimmy's my kid._

Once inside, Jimmy raced over to a bar stool that was in front of a large picture window that offered a clear view of Embarcadero Plaza and the Ferry Building. It took him a couple tries, but he eventually shimmied himself onto the stool.

"Who's that kid?" Chelsea shakily asked, expecting the worst.

"He got separated from his parents in the BART Station," Tyler explained, watching the boy spin around on the stool. "So I'm watching him until the police drop by."

Chelsea was visibly relieved that the boy was in no way related to Tyler, but still concerned. "Did they find his parents?"

"Oh yeah." Tyler noted, then grinned, "you thought he was mine, huh."

"Of course not!" Chelsea squeaked.

"Sure," Tyler scoffed, not buying it at all. "You just tell yourself that."

Chelsea made a serious face, which Tyler found incredibly sexy. "Oh just place your order!"

* * *

About twenty minutes later—and a heated discussion as to which fighter jet was better: the F-16 Fighting Falcon or the F/A-18 Hornet—a police squad car pulled up.

"Looks like your parents are here," Tyler said, watching two people, a man and a woman, both pale and on the bulky side, hop out of the back of the car.

"Mommy!" Jimmy cried, hopping down from the stool.

Jimmy's mom sobbed, entering the store and catching her child in her loving arms. "Oh my little baby boy."

While his partner wrote down some information from Jimmy's dad, Scott approached Tyler. "What up, Tnek."

"Just livin' the dream," Tyler replied as the two locked palms, then knocked their fists together. "Livin' the dream... then gonna take her out."

Scott looked over at Chelsea and cocked his eyebrow. "Damn. You are my hero."

"Yes," Tyler stated proudly. "Yes I am."

"Man, I'll holla at 'cha later," Scott said. "Remember, I wanna see what her feet look like."

"Just go do your damn job," Tyler growled.

"Bye bye, Tyler!" Jimmy waved, still clutched tightly by his mother.

Tyler tipped his beverage. "See ya 'round, kid. And the Hornet owns the Falcon! All day, everyday!"

"Does not!"

"Does too and you know it!"

Chelsea came up behind Tyler and wrapped her arm around his waist, catching him off guard, but was welcome nonetheless. "He so kicked your ass in those debates."

Tyler chuckled as he watched Jimmy and his parents climb into the back of the squad car. "I let him win. But someday, that kid's gonna be a hell of a pilot."

Chelsea watched the police car drive off. "So not only do you run into burning buildings and save damsels in distress, but you help lost little kids. Is there anything you can't do?"

"I can't do that taxi cab whistle," Tyler said matter-of-factly. "Oh, and that cop I was talking to was my friend, Scott. I would've introduced you two, but he's got a really creepy foot fetish and, well, frankly, we don't need to know what's going on in his mind. In fact, he told me to take a picture of your feet. Just weird."

Chelsea stood in front of Tyler and stared him dead in the eye; her face laced with skepticism. "A picture of my feet? Are you sure it's for him, or are you the one with a thing for feet?"

He threw his hands up. "Hey, pretty feet are always nice, but with Scott, it's an obsession. Besides, I wasn't going to anyway. And even if I was, I can't because you're wearing loafers."

"Well I just happen to have a change of shoes," Chelsea grinned, then walked off. "They'll be sure to make your friend a happy boy, though I still think you're the strange one."

A look, saying 'what the hell' was plastered on Tyler's face, which caused Chelsea to laughed hysterically.


	8. Date At MoMo's

**Chapter 8**

Around 5:30, Tyler was in the process of taking a cat nap on one of the plush couches of the Starbuck's. He opened his eyes to find that Chelsea had disappeared from behind the main counter and was replaced by a lanky guy with bleached blond hair and an overly eager attitude. Most of the patrons in the store were either white collar workers grabbing a quick jolt of energy for their commutes home, or beatniks typing on their laptops with the hopes of creating the next best editorial or community play.

"Whoa," Tyler gasped as Chelsea emerged from the back room after a few minutes.

Though she was still in her work attire, a couple buttons on her blouse were left unbuttoned, giving Tyler a clear shot of the cleft in her breasts, as well as the center of her black bra. The only other thing that was different was her shoes—a pair of chocolate brown and tan high heeled sandals, revealing her toes, that had bright, fire engine red nails and small white flowers. In a moment straight from the movies, she then undid her pony tail and shook her head, causing a chaotic, yet at the same time, neat, mane of red frame her angular face. It was exactly like the plain library revealing the hidden bombshell she actually was, although Tyler found Chelsea easily be one of the prettiest girls he had ever seen.

"So?" she asked. "Do I look alright."

"Good God," Tyler managed to choke through his wide eyed stupor.

"I'll take that as a yes," she chuckled.

Tyler shook his head, ridding himself of his trance, and stood up. "You look... wow. I mean, if you ever do that hair shake thingy, I just might have to have my way with—er, never mind."

_There is no way in hell I just said that._

Chelsea gave him a seductive look that could've brought down the Golden Gate Bridge. "You never know what might happen."

"Mmm... swing those hips, girl," Tyler whispered to himself, focusing on her rear as she walked to the main entrance of the Starbuck's.

"You say something?" Chelsea asked, snickering to herself as she heard his statement clear as crystal.

"Huh?" Tyler grunted, coming out of a hypnotic lapse. "N-no. Nothing at all. Well, I-I actually wondered if you'd like me to carry your back pack for you. It looked kinda heavy so I... y'know."

"Well aren't you just a gentleman," Chelsea purred, handing him her Hello Kitty book bag.

Tyler didn't care that the bag was anti-masculine. The way her arms and legs flowed with each step she took was enough to render him into a mindless mass, tongue hanging out and primal urges reared and ready. His original plan of trying to focus on her mental side became more than impossible.

* * *

After minutes of gawking at her, Tyler finally fought off his raging hormones, keeping them in check. At least for the time being. Still, he kept a causal eye on her, plus any other guys who happen to shoot her a glance.

_You'd think with nearly one in five guys being gay in this city, there wouldn't be so many shooting her the 'fuck me' eyes._

"So... um, is there any place you recommend?" Tyler asked.

Chelsea tapped her crimson lip with her index finger, placed into thought—the lips Tyler wanted to taste so badly. "Hmm, there's this place called MoMo's across from the baseball park."

_Good! Baseball... That can divert some of my pelvic energy away from boning the mess outta her._ "Sounds like a plan."

The pair boarded the N Judah MUNI Metro light rail and rode southward into the South Of Market District. With the construction of AT&T Park, the home field for the San Francisco Giants, much of the SOMA, as it was usually called, was entranced in massive redevelopment.

"Man, I'd like to live around here," Tyler sighed, looking through the windows of the train car.

"I'm at the point where a cardboard box would be better than my place," Chelsea groaned.

"That bad?"

Chelsea rolled her eyes. "This morning, there was a bunch of naked guys all in a drunken sexiest with my room mates."

"Even with Raven?" Tyler wondered.

Chelsea shook her head. "No. Rae's actually in D.C visiting her dad and brother."

"That's good."

"Yeah. Her dad's the head chef for the President."

Tyler cocked his eyebrow. "Wait a sec... you mean, you _know_ Victor Baxter? I saw him on the food network."

Chelsea made a dismissive wave. "Oh he's like my dad 'cause we used to hang out all the time at Raven's."

"We?"

"Well, yeah. Me, Rae, and my other best friend, Eddie." Chelsea pulled out a picture from her purse and handed it to Tyler. "The one in the dreads is Eddie."

"So lemme get this straight," Tyler noted. "This Eddie guy's just your friend? How in the hell could he _only_ be your friend? I mean, look at you. If I was in his shoes, I don't know what I might do. He gay?"

"Eddie? Of course not!" Chelsea scoffed. "In fact, he and Raven almost became an item."

"Oh..." Tyler nodded. "Well I don't blame him, I mean, you both look fantastic."

"Y'know, you sure are complementative." Chelsea grinned, her cheeks beginning to blush. "I'll take it that your dear ol' mom taught you that, huh."

"Well..." Tyler thought for a moment, looking up at the MUNI system map plastered onto the ceiling of the train. "Yeah. She did. And I don't think_ complementative _is a word."

"Oh kiss my ass," Chelsea hissed, giving him a soft slug in his arm.

"Drop trou and bend over!" Tyler challenged. "You might like it to much."

* * *

For a Friday evening, MoMo's was fairly quiet, allowing Chelsea and Tyler to sit outside on the restaurant's deck, giving them a nice view of AT&T Park, the Bay Bridge and much of downtown.

"Sure is a lovely evening," Tyler sighed, looking up into the sky as it began to turn a periwinkle color.

Since getting off the light rail train, Tyler felt considerably more relaxed. It also helped that the food was pretty good as well, even though they only ordered a couple of appetizers—sauteed mushrooms with marsala wine over cheesy polenta cakes and a tomato, basil, and mozzarella pizza. Tyler didn't miss the absence of meat; he was still too nervous to really eat much.

"Would you two like dessert?" The waiter asked, kneeling to where he was at their eye level. "Or are you going to save the sweets for when you get home?"

Tyler, who was drinking his water, choked on an ice cube, due to the waiter's statement.

"Are you alright, sir?"

"Y-yeah... just went down the wrong pipe," Tyler responded, trying to regain his composure. "So... dessert sound good to you?"

Chelsea pursed her lips, searching the menu. "I think I'd like to have the fresh berries and whipped cream—" a sexy smirk materialized on her face as she stared at Tyler—"extra whipped cream, please."

"And for you sir?"

"Tiramisu," Tyler abruptly said, his voice cracking as if he was fourteen years old.

The waiter nodded. "I'll have those right out for you two."

A few minutes later, their desserts arrived, Chelsea's piled high with frothy whipped topping. She swiped her finger into the soft peak of cream, catching some, then licking it off her finger. All the while, Tyler watched her tongue dance around her digit.

"What?" she asked, knowing damn well _what._ "You not a fan of whip cream?"

"I _love_ it," Tyler quickly stated. "Best thing since sliced bread."

"Want some?"

Tyler cocked his eyebrow, then grabbed his spoon.

"Here. Use this instead." Chelsea swiped her finger through the cream once more, allowing a large mound develop. _What the hell am I doing,_ she thought. _Oh, like I really give a damn, anymore. I want him, and it!_

By his dumbfounded look, Chelsea began to retract her arm, worried that she had scared him into a petrified state.

_Smooth move, Chels. You just blew—_

Chelsea's train of thought vanished, shocked by what Tyler did. Instead of keeping the terrified gaze, he slyly grinned, brought her hand closer to his face, then wrapped his lips around her cream laden finger. Her eyes rolled back into their sockets, overly enjoying his tongue removing all traces of the dessert topping.

"Not bad," Tyler said after removing her finger. _I can not believe I just did that. _

The dumbfounded look was now on Chelsea's face. She chuckled in a nervous, yet extremely goofy, manner, which was followed by a loud snort, catching the attention of a few other patrons, plus a couple of people walking past the restaurant's patio. Embarrassed to no end, Chelsea's face flushed to a shade redder than her hair. Tyler couldn't help but laugh. In response, she dredged her hand into her whipped cream, then smeared his face with white froth.

"Ha!" she triumphantly huffed. "Laugh now!"

"You are so lucky we're out in public," Tyler growled, licking away much of the cream around his mouth while wiping the rest with his napkin, "otherwise, it'd be on like Donkey Kong."

* * *

After spending hours just walking around the waterfront, Tyler escorted Chelsea back to her apartment, just to make sure she got home safely as it was nearing midnight.

"Wow," Tyler gasped. "This is a nice place. Rent must be a hell of a lot."

Chelsea nodded. "Yeah."

Though it was fairly late, there was loud techno music blaring from somewhere in the residence. Tyler looked up at one of the balconies, up on the third floor, only to find ten people having a merry old time.

"Oh God," Chelsea groaned. "That's my apartment."

"Looks like their havin' fun," Tyler remarked.

"I just hope no one's fucking around in my room," Chelsea hissed. "I am seriously sick of this."

Tyler looked at her for a second, then back up at the party. _Man, she even hot when she looks pissed._ "Whoa, watch out!" He grabbed her and pulled her right into his body just as a cascade of vomit fell from the balcony. "I can't let you stay here."

Another waterfall of puke fell from the sky.

"The guys are probably gonna respond to a call here." Tyler remarked, then asked, "is there someplace you can stay? I-I mean, if not, you can come back with me. We'll be with Scott, though... unless he's havin' a drunken fuck fest. Which _is_ likely."

Chelsea thought for a second. "My parents are on a vacation so their house is empty. They don't live too far from here."

"Sounds like a bang-up plan," Tyler said. _Jackpot!_

* * *

The two walked up to Chelsea's parents' home, a mid-sized Victorian townhouse on the corner of Grove and Lyon.

"Well, this is it," Chelsea smiled. "I really had a great night."

"Y-yeah... it was alotta fun." The awkwardness was returning all over again—the worst possible time. "We've really gotta do this again sometime."

"Yeah..." Chelsea smiled, opening the door and dropping off her backpack and purse.

"I better go. I-I'm sure you probably wanna get to bed."

Tyler stuck his hand out while Chelsea went into a hugging position. The two chuckled, then switched positions, with Chelsea sticking her hand out while Tyler opened his arms.

"Oh the hell with this," Tyler whispered, then leaned in with the intent of giving her a kiss on her cheek.

At the last second, Chelsea turned her face, her lips connecting with Tyler's, whose eyes went wide, but slowly relaxed. Her lips were soft and incredibly flavorful, tasting kind of like fresh berries—her dessert from earlier. Chelsea felt the same way, tasting his lips while inhaling his intoxicating aftershave. Reluctantly, she pulled back, the kiss ending with a small _smack_ sound.

"We _really_ have to do this again," she whispered, biting her lower lip. "I'll see ya later, hero."

Before Tyler could even stand upright, Chelsea slammed the door, nailing him square in the nose. The euphoric moment vanished as he stumbled backwards.

"That kiss... was awesome!" Tyler hollered, sitting on the pavement.

* * *

**Some of you may have noticed the excerpts involving whipped cream. That was done in homage to some of the awesome ChRave Nation... I wonder if the Nation's got a flag... Hmm... anyway, they know who they are. All of 'em are some of the best writers I've seen. Now if you'll excuse me, it's 2:15 in the morning and I have a class at 7. Oh... I'll sleep through it. **


	9. Tough Cookies

**Chapter 9**

Tyler woke up earlier than the rest of the fire fighters, sometime around 5am. Miraculously, there were no late night calls to their house. For most of the nights since the date with Chelsea, his mind was a beehive of thought, analyzing and reanalyzing every moment, every small action, every little word said between them.

The barrack-like sleeping area was still dark, some of the others snoring loudly. Tyler put on his pants and shoes, adjusting his belt buckle as it began to cut into his flesh.

"Gotta lay off the burritos from Taqueria Cancun," he whispered, walking down to the kitchen and staring up the coffee machine.

He checked the refrigerator for stuff to whip up some breakfast for the crew. "Let's see what we got. Plenty of bacon—the candy bar of meat, some sausage..." Tyler grabbed a Tupperware container and opened it, wincing at what he saw. "Whoa! Smells like hot shit in August." He promptly put that back in its place.

"You're up early," Lacey stated, entering the kitchen.

"Mornin', Lace," Tyler greeted, his head still in the fridge.

Back when Tyler first became apart of Two Truck Crew, in May of 2006, he had quickly developed a crush on Lacey as she had a strong resemblance to Sara Ramirez from the show _Grey's Anatomy._ He never acted on it, quickly finding out that she had two kids, but was still overjoyed that he would be working with her.

"So how'd your date with your new girlfriend go?" Lacey asked, grabbing a cup and pouring herself some coffee.

"She's not my girlfriend—" Tyler began, pulling out a jar of minced garlic.

"Yet," Lacey interrupted as she poured some hazelnut flavored creamer into her coffee. "So was it good or did you pull a Wally and do somethin' stupid?"

"Nah," Tyler laughed. "I did the exact opposite of what Wally would do. But everything was... _really _good."

"So? You two kiss?"

"Oh yeah. Ended up on the pavement."

Lacey cocked her eyebrow. "Damn, Nek. Was it that good?"

"Well... actually, I stumbled, but hell yeah it was that damn good."

* * *

On her Vespa scooter, Chelsea decided to stop by Tyler's fire house, just to say hi. She found a small slot to park her scooter, then walked over to two fire fighters who happened to be standing outside, both smoking cigars. 

"Hello," Chelsea waved. "I was wondering if Tyler was here?"

The two fire fighters glanced at each other, then back at her. "Yeah, I'll go get 'em," one of them said.

"Nice day out, huh," the other said to Chelsea. "By the way, I'm Aubrey."

"Step away from the red head," Tyler said.

"Kiss my pasty white ass," Aubrey hissed.

"Oh don't be bitter, Aub. I love you too," Tyler winked.

"Aww I know, Nek," Aubrey laughed as he walked into the station, then turned to Chelsea. "When you two get married, make sure you take care of 'em."

Tyler shook his head. "Just gotta love those guys. So what brings you by?"

"Y'know," Chelsea blushed. "Just needed my cocoa fix."

"Really? I always thought I was more of a caramel tone," Tyler said.

"Like hell," Wally hollered from some corner of the station. "You're definitely a burnt sienna."

"Nah," Aimee also yelled. "Kent's mahogany all the way!"

Chelsea laughed. "Are they always like this?"

Tyler rolled his eyes. "Nah... this is actually a light—"

Before Tyler could finish, the station's alarm blared—and electronic sound that resembled an air horn mixed with a poorly played set of bag pipes.

"_Station One, Station Two, Station Three, Station Thirteen, Station Twenty-Two; Respond: Structural Fire—"_

Tyler went wide eyed as he listened, then looked at Chelsea. "I-I gotta go."

"What's happening?" She asked.

"Fire... sounds big, too."

Before he took off, Chelsea grabbed his face and planted a solid kiss on his lips. "Be careful."

"I always am," Tyler slyly grinned as he raced back, removed his shoes, and jumped into his turnout pants and rubber boots.

Before he could get himself situated in the tiller cab, the truck's motor roared to life, its flashing lights illuminating. The first apparatus to roll out was Engine Two, followed by Truck Two, both pieces of fire fighting might blaring their sirens and honking their air horns. As the trucks thundered from their respective bays, Chelsea waved, to which Tyler returned with a flick of his wrists.

* * *

Tyler plugged in his headset, allowing him to communicate with the others up front as well as listen to any incoming transmissions. _I wish I could've enjoyed that kiss a little longer. But duty calls yet again._ He was positive all the others saw Chelsea kiss him, but he didn't care. He got kissed and thats all there was to it. 

Traveling along The Embarcadero, Tyler gasped as he could clearly see a plume of black smoke rising into the morning sky. From one of his rear view mirrors, he caught a glimpse of Engine and Truck Thirteen, weaving through the gauntlet of traffic, and past a MUNI Metro Train.

Within minutes, they arrived at the scene at the corner of 4th and King Street—a construction site. Everyone piled out, Tyler securing his helmet and grabbing his SCBA (self-contained breathing apparatus) and gathered, awaiting their orders. The members of Stations One, Three, and Twenty-Two, were waiting as well.

"I talked to the foreman of the site," Battalion Chief Guido Ianni announced. "He said everyone's out. But there's some volatile chemicals in there. We're gonna attack this from the outside, so trucks, get those sticks up and get a waterline for an aerial assault. Engines? Find a spot thats spittin' flames and put some water on it. Lets make it happen people!"

Aimee turned to her crew. "You heard the man. Lace? Wally? You two are on the ladder. Kent? Get the outriggers set. Jamie, when the rigs are good, you've got the ladder."

Everyone set to their tasks. Tyler removed his SCBA, not needing it, then grabbed two steel plates, placing them near the outrigger jacks that stabilized the truck when its ladder was in operation, preventing the apparatus from tipping over.

Once the outriggers were extended, forcing the center wheels of the truck a good five inches off the pavement, Jamie proceeded to lift the massive white ladder. The other truck companies followed suit, their white ladders also raising and extending to their maximum height of one hundred feet, Lacey and Wally grabbed a hose from Engine Two, then ascended the ladder to the very tip, awaiting the stream of water from the pumper.

Though Lacey was the smallest of the Truck Two crew, she easily manhandled the high pressure nozzle of the hose as a white geyser of water shot from the opening. Wally stood directly behind her, making sure she didn't lose balance and fall to her death. The other trucks opened their hoses, shooting fists of water onto the hell below them, as the pumper crews attacked from the ground. Clouds of steam rose from the impact of cold onto the flame heated material.

Irking him to no end, Tyler was stuck, only watching. His job was rescue and ventilation to prevent dangerous situations. This, however, was just a water scenario as there was no one to rescue, no roofs to cut open, and no doors and windows to rip open.

"I guess that smooch was lucky," Tyler chuckled to himself. "I freakin' rock..._ hard_."

* * *

After an hour and a half of continuous water bombardment, the blaze died out, save for a few hot spots that managed to flare up. 

"So, Dude? When she kissed you, you get a taste of tongue?" Wally inquired.

"A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell," Tyler replied.

"Fuck that," Wally exclaimed. "Be a gentleman on someone else's time."

Tyler thought for a moment. "Good point. But no, I didn't get no tongue."

"No spit-swappin' tongue action? Might as well've been givin' a kiss to your mom," Wally noted.

"Hell, I wouldn't mind kissin' _your _mom," Tyler stated. "She's a MILF if there ever was one."

"Don't 'chu say that about my mom!" Wally cried.

"Man, don't be mad at me 'cause she looks like _that._" Tyler laughed, knowing this would piss Wally off. "But the day she stops lookin' like Rachael Ray, well... no, she'll still be too damn hot for her own right."

"Mmm... d'you see that photo shoot of Rachael Ray in FHM?" Wally recalled. "She can make me a sandwich any day of the week."

"Amen to that."

Back at the station, Tyler wasn't shocked to find that Chelsea had left. Everyone had been gone for three and a half hours, most of the time spent on dousing hot spots, as well as clean up duty. There was, however, someone else Tyler instantly recognized.

"Tyler!" A pale, carrot topped boy called out as he raced into the station and latched himself onto Tyler's leg. "Mommy made you cookies—" he then motioned for Tyler to lean close as he whispered—"they're not that good, though. Mommy can't cook cookies."

"They can't be that bad, Jimmy," Tyler whispered.

"Oh they are," Jimmy informed. "Dad once ran over one with the car... and it didn't break."

"Who's your friend?" Lacey asked, kneeling before Jimmy.

"I'm Jimmy," the boy said proudly. "Tyler helped me when I got lost at the train station."

"Oh he did," she remarked, giving Tyler a glance of approval. "Well my name's Lacey."

Jimmy blushed as he shook her hand. Tyler instantly noticed that he had quickly developed a crush on her. "Jimmy and Lacey sittin' in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G..."

"Are there any trees near by?" Jimmy quickly asked, causing Tyler to bust out laughing.

Jimmy's mother soon walked up after chatting with Aimee. "I can't begin to thank you enough. Here... I made you all some cookies."

From behind her, Jimmy waved his arms, warning Tyler to not take them. When she glanced at her son, he quickly stopped..

"Thank you, ma'am," Tyler gratefully said, accepting the plate of cookies, that actually looked pretty good.

As Jimmy and his mom headed out, Tyler grabbed one of the chocolate chip cookies and bit into it. At least, he tried to, anyway.

"Good God!" he muffled. "I think I cracked a tooth."

Lacey took one and clamped her teeth into it. "What the hell?"

To say the cookies were hard was an understatement.

"Wally? Come try one of these," Tyler offered.

"Alright, cookies. Who brought 'em?"

"Just try it," Lacey said, a strange smile on her face.

Wally complied, took one, and bit into it. "What the fuck! This ain't a cookie! It's a damn hockey puck."

Tyler tapped one of the cookies on the floor of the station. "Jesus. Someone get the NHL on the horn. If they need some pucks, we've got enough to last."


	10. Hanging In

**Chapter 10**

"So you down for hittin' up Kells after the shifts over?" Wally asked.

"I'm all for it," Tyler noted. "So long as I don't die from sloggin' it up this damn crane."

Tyler and Wally hustled up the small ladder ways of the two-hundred foot tall tower crane, as the operator had a massive heart attack.

"This is why we need tower ladders," Wally huffed—a tower ladder being a truck with a bucket for holding fire fighters at the end of its boom-like ladder. "I hope this guy isn't fat. If he is, you're carryin' him back down, Nek."

"Shit," Tyler groaned.

The two fire fighters, each carrying a twenty-five pound bag of emergency medical supplies, made their way to the top of the crane. It was easily one of the best views of the city, but there was no time to enjoy the scenery. Carefully, the two stepped towards the cab of the crane, as any mistake made could result in a fall, and certain death.

"So what's the plan, Nek?"

Instinctively, Tyler checked for a pulse in the man, who was in his late forties and had a gray five o'clock shadow sprouting from his face.

"Well... he's got a pulse. Weak one, though," Tyler sighed. "Sir? My name's Tyler and my partner's name's Wally. We're gonna get you stabilized and back down on the ground."

Tyler peered over the side. The ladder of the truck was only able to reach half the height of the tower crane and there would be no way to get the man down by using the service ways of the crane. He keyed his radio and explained the situation to Aimee; she then relayed that info to the Heavy Rescue Unit Commander. Ten minutes later, two crewmen from the rescue rig emerged.

"Took ya long enough," Wally joked.

"Go fuck yourself, Rooth," Jim Wilder hissed. "So who's the lucky gal who gets to ride down?"

"You wanna take this one, Dub, or should I?" Tyler asked.

"I got it. Just don't drop me."

While Wally put on his harness, Tyler and Jim affixed a second harness to the victim. Once they were set, Tyler explained to the man what was about to happen—which nearly caused the man to have a second heart attack.

Making sure the two were securely fastened to each other, Wally very carefully lifted his leg over the guard rail of the crane; nothing between him but a 16-story drop with another man along for the ride. Tyler and Jim gripped the rope that would lower Wally and his passenger to the ground, while the other fire-medic, North Robeson, watched, making sure everything was alright. Tyler sat and pressed the heels of his boots into the railing, giving himself a firm footing.

"Elevator going down," Wally gulped. "They better put me in the papers for this.

"Express to ground floor," Tyler breathed. "_Ding._"

Without another thought, Wally stepped from the semi-safe ledge, now only supported by the rope in his comrades' hands. Tyler gritted his teeth as he bore much of the weight of the two dangling people.

"Okay... let 'em down, nice and easy," North said, keeping an eye out for any snags that could happen.

Tyler took a few large breaths, then loosened his grip on the rope just enough to let it slide through his gloved hands.

"Doin' good," North encouraged. "Almost to the halfway point..."

He could feel the rope pick up some speed, the friction warming through his gloves. _I'll need some ice after this._

"How ya hangin', Kent?" Jim asked.

"Oh... I'm hangin'," Tyler grunted through breaths.

"Almost... another fifty feet," North informed.

_Almost my ass! Fifty fuckin' feet is a still a long way._

Soon, the rope very dramatically lighter. "_Ding. _Ground floor," a voice crackled over his radio.

"They're down!" North cried. "Give 'em some slack."

Relieved, all Tyler wanted to do was lay down. But there was still the fact that _he_ now had to climb down. The pat on the back by Jim, plus the applause down below helped him recuperate some of his energy. Slowly, he stood up and looked down below, just in time to see the man placed onto a stretcher, rolled into the ambulance, and whisked away to a nearby hospital. Wally looked up, then pointed to Tyler.

"I will make today the day!" Wally shouted.

"I will make today the day," Tyler repeated, then returned. "Tell success I'm on my way!"

"Tell success I'm on my way! There ain't no ounce of doubt in me!" Lacey keyed into the radio.

"'Cause I rule the economy!" Jamie added in.

"Who 'da man!?" Aimee noted.

"Who 'da man!?" Wally repeated.

Tyler pointed down to Wally. "You 'da man!"

"You 'da man!" Wally exclaimed, returning the gesture.

Jim and North looked at Tyler, puzzled.

"What? You guys haven't seen that Starbucks commercial with that step chant?"Tyler inquired. "You guys obviously don't have enough fun at Station One, huh."

* * *

Back at the station, Tyler grabbed his cell phone and called up Chelsea, with the intent of inviting her to grab a drink with everyone.

"_I saw you on the news,_" she said. "_Are you okay?"_

"Hello to you too," Tyler said, caught off guard. "But yeah, I'm fine. Arms are singin' but no harm—"

"_Just tell me you'll never be the one hanging from a rope!_" Chelsea begged. _"I was terrified watching that."_

He wanted to reassure her in some way, but that would mean lying. "Chelsea? It-it's part of my job, y'know. I mean, if I have to—"

"_Tyler, please?_" she pleaded. _"Just please tell me that won't be you hanging from that rope."_

He was touched to know she cared so much after just one date, but it hurt because he didn't want to tell her a fabrication. But to ease her mind, he knew he had to. "Okay, Chelsea. I won't be on the rope."

"_Promise?"_

"Promise."

"_Listen. I'm sorry. I-I know it's part of your job... but I don't wanna lose you 'cause I really like you and all—"_

"Do you like me enough to come to Kells later on with me and the others?" Tyler asked.

"_I'd love too. Can Rae come too?"_

"The more the merrier. Tell 'er to hop aboard."

"_So when should we meet you there?"_

"Six work for you?"

"_Six's perfect. See ya then."_

* * *

Before heading to Kells Irish Pub, Chelsea decided to catch Tyler before he left the station. Plus, Raven needed time to choose her wardrobe, even though it was just a causal group get-drunk-together.

"Well speak of the devil," Wally hollered. "Oh Tnek? Your red headed sexiness has arrived."

"Inside with the rest of you," Tyler demanded, physically forcing Wally to leave as Chelsea blushed.

"So is that my new nickname?" she asked.

Tyler put is arms around her shoulders. "Well... you've got red hair. And you're ridiculously sexy. So yeah, I guess it is."

Chelsea smiled, their eyes locking together. "I am sexy, huh?"

"Tell that to my nose," Tyler mused.

Chelsea laughed. "Sorry 'bout that."

Tyler pursed his lips and cocked his head quizzically. "Well, that good luck kiss you gave me Monday morning helped."

"Hey! No spooning until after we get some Guinness," Wally exclaimed. "But we do need to get some snap shots of the cute couple. I wanna put 'em up on my MySpace site."

"For what?" Tyler asked.

"'Cause, Nek, you're my cocoa love machine and I want the whole damn world to know." Wally proudly stated. "Now take red and get in a heroic pose. Here, I even did the courtesy of grabbing your helmet."

Chelsea snatched his helmet and examined it; a set of clear lensed goggles and a small, fluorescent flashlight were strapped to the head wear.

"Oh so it's like that," Tyler scoffed as she put his helmet on her head.

With that, he scooped her up. In response, Chelsea wrapped her arms around his neck and planted a kiss on his cheek.

"Perfect," Wally purred, aiming with his Kodak digital camera. "Right in front of the truck and Nek's got the Superman smirk goin'."

While her lips were affixed to his cheek, Tyler put on a heroic smirk as if to say 'all in a day's work.'

* * *

As Chelsea jogged back to her apartment to see if Raven was finally ready, Tyler and the others made their way to Kells Irish Pub on Jackson Street—a block north of the Transamerica Pyramid. Though it was more of a restaurant, they still served pretty good drinks.

As soon as Chelsea and Raven entered, each of the firefighters raised their drinks and shouted a loud "Hurrah."

"Ooh... I'ma like drinkin' with firemen," Raven grinned, setting her eyes on Wally.

"Sorry we took so long," Chelsea apologized. "Rae just had to look her best."

Raven wore a white tunic with flared sleeves and a green tie-dye front, a pair of olive gauchos, and five inch heels. Chelsea's attire was more casual, as she sported a wide scoop neck green and yellow sweatshirt, a white tank top underneath it, and a pair of khaki cargo pants.

"You both look great." For all he cared, Chelsea could've been in a burlap sack and she'd still look amazing to Tyler. "Drink?"

Tyler bought a couple light Guinnesses for Raven and Chelsea.

"I'd like to propose a toast," Wally announced, standing up. "Tnek... my rock. You complete me. You are the chocolate sauce to the sundae of Station Two. The brown in the slogan, 'What Can Brown Do For You.' For without you today, I would've been the one holding the rope. To Tnek!"

"Hurrah, Tnek!" Every patron of Kells exclaimed, raising their drinks.

Tyler stood up. "I would also like to propose a toast. Wally... the vanilla in the Neapolitan ice cream of life. The bleach when I wash my whites. Uh... the Wonder bread of society's peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Though I am not gay and have an affinity for the opposite gender, you have a special place in my heart and bring out the horndog in us all. To Wally!"

"Hurrah, Wally!" Everyone shouted, once again tipping their drinks.

"They always like this?" Raven whispered.

"This is one of their lighter days," Chelsea remarked.

Though they weren't the least bit drunk, Tyler and Wally began to sing 'Ebony and Ivory.' Chelsea was shocked to see Tyler this outgoing. She knew he used humor to shield his shyness, but him singing like this was strange, but welcome.

* * *

"That was too much fun," Chelsea sighed. "With the toasts and the singing and the stories."

Tyler was a little buzzed, enough to know he should call a cab, but not enough where his judgment was completely gone. "So you wanna come back to my place? We can watch a Tivo'ed episode of The Office and Scrubs and that new Andy Richter show?"

"I'd love to," Chelsea replied.

"Oh... well, hey. Maybe another time," Tyler said, not expecting her to accept.

"I know i had a few... but I'm pretty sure I said yes," Chelsea chuckled.

He had to let this register within his mind for a moment. He knew he had a relatively high alcohol tolerance, but perhaps he had one too many pints. "You do know I asked you to _my_ place... right?"

She nodded.

"My place... in the Mission," Tyler continued.

"Yes," Chelsea snickered.

Tyler got fact to face with her with a skeptical look and inquisitive eye. "Are you drunk?"

"I could always head home." Chelsea sighed.

Tyler rubbed his chin with his index finger, feeling the coarse hair of his stubble. "You point is well said—" he stuck his arm out—"Taxi!"

After being passed up, Chelsea offered some assistance. "Let me show you how it's done." She licked her lips, stuck her thumb and index finger into her mouth, and blew, emanating a loud, high pitched whistle that seemed to echo off the densely packed buildings, drowning out all other city sounds. Instantaneously, a yellow taxi cab screeched to a halt right in front of the two.

"Damn," Tyler gasped, clearly impressed as he opened the door, letting her enter the cab first. "You've gotta show me how to do that."

"It's all in the lips, baby," she purred with a mock cockiness that Tyler typically had. "Just lick, stick, and blow."

"Y'know, if i had Wally's mentality, I could've taken that 'lick, stick, and blow' statement the wrong way entirely." Tyler noted as he sat down in the cab and shut the door.

Chelsea set her hand on his thigh, slithering it to a close proximity to his groin muscle. "What happens in the Mission—" she placed her hand squarely on his crotch, causing his left eye to twitch—"stays in the Mission."

His breathing and heart beat accelerated tenfold. Tyler had a strong feeling that they weren't going to be watching 'The Office.' Under these circumstances, however, he could take a leave from the antics of Steve Carell and Rainn Wilson.


	11. Must See TV

**Sorry 'bout the long delay people. I swear, you never truly appreciate the internet until you can't use it for a while... Anyway, you all know the drill. Remember, if you see somethin' that's wierd, drop a review... even flames are welcome. They'll give me somethin' to laugh at.

* * *

Chapter 11**

Tyler handed the cab driver some cash while Chelsea tugged at his hand. "Down killer. Let me pay the man."

Once the taxi roared off, Chelsea spun herself into Tyler's arm. "Woo! NBC Thursday comedy!" _We are so not gonna be watching the t.v._

"Chill, girl. You don't even know which place is mine," Tyler laughed.

She pointed to one of the buildings. "It's that one," she confidentially pointed to.

He cocked his eyebrow. "Oh you are just too good."

"Yes. Yes I am," she grinned.

"Well aren't we lil' Miss Cocky," Tyler mused.

She pulled him down to her face level. "You bet your ass I am," Chelsea whispered, just before placing her lips onto his.

Their kiss gathered momentum as Tyler fumbled around in his pocket for his keys. Her tongue requested entrance to his mouth, of which he welcomed, then invaded her mouth with his tongue.

Tyler pulled back for a second and took a breath after their lips danced for three minutes solid. "I-I can't find my keys."

"Let me look," Chelsea panted, pressing her lips back onto Tyler's and shoving her hand into his pants pocket. "Ooh, right there..."

"There we go," Tyler mumbled, taking the keys from Chelsea and searching for the proper one by way of touch since his face was preoccupied.

"Next time... I stick my hand... down your pants," Chelsea muttered between kisses. "You'd... better not... have any pants on..."

"Can do," Tyler replied, unlocking the door to the apartment and leading Chelsea down the hallway.

Without even thinking, Tyler led her to the door of his unit and pinned her there, the look on her face showing nothing but seductive anticipation.

"You want it?" she purred. "Come and get it."

"Yes, ma'am," Tyler complied, aggressively planting his lips on hers; her hand snaking its way under his clothing.

Without haste, Tyler unlocked the door to his unit and opened it—only to find Scott in the process of having relations with some woman who Tyler didn't recognize.

"Jesus Christ!" Tyler cried.

Chelsea turned around, mortified by Scott's bare rear and the woman pinned beneath him. In response, the woman underneath Scott yelped as Scott motioned for Tyler to get out. Quickly, Tyler slammed the door shut and stood there for a moment, registering within his mind, exactly what just happened. Chelsea stood there, her eyes wide open.

"Your friend's got a cute ass," she commented with a small laugh.

In the decade that Tyler had known Scott, he had never seen _that_ much of him, even when they played football during high school—

"Hold on a second," Tyler scoffed. "What the hell were you doin' lookin at _his_ ass?"

"Is someone jealous?" Chelsea mocked.

"Of Talks?" Tyler cocked his eyebrow in shock. "Hell no. And if you think his ass's cute, mine is freakin' glorious!"

Chelsea laughed, knowing he was joking, but the serious look in his face made him all the funnier. "I know it is—" she reached around and gave Tyler's rear a pinch, causing him to flinch as it was unexpected—"it's a damn fine ass."

"Well thank you. Your ass is mighty fine as well," Tyler noted.

Chelsea wrapped her arms around his neck, Tyler noticing a warm twinkle in her eyes, even though the hallway was fairly dark, save for a few dim lights. "So what else do you think is mighty fine?"

Just to push her buttons, Tyler thought for a moment, though he didn't need to at all. "What else... hmm... Well, your eyes."

"My eyes?" Chelsea whispered. "What else?"

Tyler placed his forehead upon hers, some of his hair melding with hers. "What else... your smile. Your lips, and how they're the same red color like your hair."

By the warm look in his eyes, Chelsea could tell he was completely sincere about what he said—he wasn't saying what she wanted to hear just to get in her pants. Both of their raging sex drives cooled off considerably, Tyler's to a lesser extent since he was a young man, ready to go anywhere and anytime. The affection, however, was still evident.

Both had this thought running through their minds as the same moment: _I think I might be in love._

The two knew the difference between lust and love—there were countless women that Tyler lusted for when Scott and himself would go out for drinks; Scott usually the one acting upon his lust while Tyler swallowed his and kept his inhibitions intact. The same was true for Chelsea, as she too lusted for many upon first sight with Raven being the one to act. Unlike Tyler, who usually kept to himself out of shyness, Chelsea was quite extroverted, not afraid to pick up conversation. She just opted to not hook up with every other guy to keep from having any drama, as school and work was enough stress.

The two were jarred from their time lost in each others eyes by the opening of the door to Tyler's apartment. Scott emerged wearing only a blanket wrapped around his waist.

"What 'chu guys doin'?" he asked.

"We _were_ havin' a moment," Tyler huffed, then peeked inside at the naked woman sitting on the sofa. "Who the hell is that in there?"

"That would be Officer Julie Magayames," Scott proudly stated. "She works out of the Tenderloin Precinct doin' prostitute busts... and worked the shit outta _my_ tenderloins."

Tyler had to give Scott his due congrats as Officer Magayames was a beautiful bronze tone with long black hair and a figure that was fantastic. "Man, couldn't you have at least put a tie on the door knob or something? 'Cause I sure as hell didn't need to see your German ass makin' the beast with two backs."

"Well it looked like you and red here were gonna end up in the same predicament," Scott informed. "By the way, hello Chelsea."

Chelsea smiled politely, though the crept out factor was clearly on her face. "Hi."

"Scottie?" Julie called out. "Are your friends gonna join us?"

Tyler and Chelsea looked at each other, then at Scott, who gave them a look asking 'yes' or 'no.'

"Hell no!" Both Chelsea and Tyler said in unison.

"We'll be done in a few hours," Scott said. "So if you guys wanna wait..."

"No," Tyler quickly said. "I'll go to a Motel Six or something. And burn that blanket when your done 'cause no one deserves to use it anymore now that your dick and her cooter juices are runnin' amok on it."

Scott shrugged, walked back into the apartment, and shut the door.

"You don't have to go to a motel, you know," Chelsea meekly said. "If you want, you can come back with me—"

"I am all for it," Tyler exclaimed. "But won't your room mates be weirded out by my intrusion?"

She rolled her eyes. "Jeannie and Summer bring guys in all the time. I think it's my turn. Besides, if we hurry, we can catch Conan O'Brien. And, hey? Maybe you can use your fireman prowess to scare away some of the people in my apartment. I mean, hell, you've still got Hendrix scared shitless."

Tyler shook his head in amusement. "Yeah. I feel I made a difference that day."

* * *

The pair exited from another taxi, Tyler cringing at the amount of cash he had dropped for their trips. As a firefighter, he made a very decent living, bringing in nearly $60,000 a year. However, everything was so expensive in the city that without Scott as his room mate, Tyler would be in a world of financial trouble.

"Well, at least no one's tossin' their cookies over the balcony," Tyler noted.

"Guess they heard my big strong man was comin' for a visit," Chelsea mused with a smirk.

"_Your_ man?" Tyler asked, his eyebrow cocked high.

"You got a problem with that?" she inquired with a bit of attitude.

"No ma'am," Tyler responded, realizing his place in the matter. "Please, lead the way."

Chelsea took him by the hand and led him into her apartment. Inside, Tyler saw two girls sitting on a sofa; neither of them Raven. _Jeannie and Summer I'm guessing._

"'Sup, Chels," Summer greeted, though kept her eyes affixed to the television.

"Who's the guy?" Jeannie asked, Tyler noticing her voice was fairly high pitched like an over-pepped high school cheerleader. "He looks hot."

After hearing Paris Hilton coin the term _hot,_ Tyler now had a severe disdain for its usage to describe something appealing. And though Jeannie wasn't bad looking at all, he didn't really want to be affiliated with her as he could tell her lower half had seen more action than a Summer blockbuster movie. In other words, she was the exact type of girl Wally would pursue.

"He's not for you," Chelsea remarked.

"Well when you're done, like send 'em my way," Jeannie stated, then licked her lips towards him. "I'll show him a hell of a time."

Chelsea was about to say something, but Tyler cut her off, a bright smile on his face. "While I thank you for the kind gesture, I'm positive you've had more than your fair share of penises invade your cha-cha. And while your perky, perky, perkiness shows you've got a positive attitude, I'd prefer that my Johnson not enter into overcharged territory."

Jeannie scratched her head. "Wha?"

"Oh for the love of..." Chelsea sighed, then led Tyler to her room. "C'mon before they suck the intelligence out of the whole area."

"Like, oh my God," Tyler joked in a tone mocking Jeannie's as Chelsea shut the door to her room. "He is like _so_ dreamy."

Chelsea joined in. "Fer sure! Like he is _so_ hotter than Ashton Kutcher."

"Like I _so_ know," Tyler drawled. "I am_ so_ hotter than Ashton. Oh. My. God."

The two howled in laugher, which was followed by a relaxing sigh as they both took a seat on her futon, which was in its couch position.

"I should change into my pajamas," Chelsea said matter-of-factly.

"Can I watch?" Tyler wondered. "'Cause I really don't wanna wait outside."

"Well you've gotta cover your eyes," Chelsea demanded. "And no sneak peeks."

Tyler scoffed. "You and I both know I'm gonna look!"

"Either close 'em, or I'll poke them out," Chelsea stated, to which he complied, shutting his eyes and placing his hands over them. "Good boy."

_Say what!?_ "Oh, so do I get a treat now?" Tyler sighed.

"You _could_ call it that," she said.

A mental light blared within Tyler, set off by the way Chelsea had responded. With his hands still blocking his vision, Tyler opened his eyes and ever-so slightly peeked through the gaps between his fingers, just enough to get an eyeful. Chelsea was in the process of pulling up her baggy, flannel pajama bottoms over her yellow panties.

_Hmm... Victoria's Secret Spring line. Girl's got spunk._

Next, she removed her bra, revealing her bare back as it was facing him. With her right arm, she covered her chest, wheeled around, and tossed her bra right onto Tyler's face.

"I knew you were watching," she laughed. "Pervert."

"Is it my fault that given the opportunity to see your side boob, I opted to take it?" Tyler exclaimed, sensing that she wore Curve perfume as the scent was evident on her article of underwear.

"Okay, you can look now," she said.

Tyler quickly removed his hands and the bra from his face, just in time to see her put on a faded Hello Kitty tank top.

"Hmm... I was expecting one of those lacey, satiny, uber sexy nighties," Tyler huffed. "Maybe something see-though, even though I had a nice look see at your undies."

Chelsea sat down, plopping her legs on his lap. "Next time, Tiger."

"Can't this time be next time?" Tyler wondered, then thought as that made no sense.

"You can look at my toes since you want a picture of them so badly," Chelsea lamented. "Or maybe you wanna touch 'em? They are cute."

"Oh come on!" Tyler sighed. "Scott's the one who's the foot freak and now I'm startin' to think you might be one too. Well how about I just do this..."

Tyler grazed his fingers over her soles, Chelsea cackling and pleading for him to stop.

"Oh no, lil' missy!" Tyler exclaimed, continuing to tickle her while making sure she didn't squirm out of his grasp. "You brought this on yourself."

"Okay! Okay!" she squealed. "Please stop!" _Don't stop... keep it up._

"Oh I'd love to quit... but no," Tyler laughed.

Tears began to stream down her cheeks from laughing so hard. "If-if you stop, I'll rock your world."

"Stopping," Tyler exclaimed, releasing his hold around her ankles.

Once free, she altered her position, placing her upper body where her legs were.

Chelsea pressed her body against his; her face a mere centimeter from his own. "I am so gonna make you scream... another time."

By the shattered reaction on his face, she felt kind of bad, though not enough to keep her from giggling. "I know. I suck."

"I wish," Tyler muttered under his breath.


	12. Overtime

**Chapter 12**

"Kent?" Aimee called out as she marched up to Tyler, who was loading some tools back into the truck. "Second shift needs someone to cover for Friday"

Tyler shook his head, slamming the compartment shut. "I already covered Saint Patty's Day. Isn't there—"

"Shea requested that you cover," Aimee sighed, referring to Lieutenant Henry Shea, the officer of Truck Two during Second Shift. "Listen, I know its a pain in the ass and short notice, but they did approve you to receive double pay for Friday."

He knew he could use the money, but it still irked him that it was such short notice. "Fine." Aimee thanked him, then walked back to the front of the truck. "Shit," Tyler cursed to himself as he climbed into the tiller cab.

* * *

Back at the station, Wally and Tyler set to work, scrubbing down the truck, making sure its red and white body sparkled.

"So... explain to me this," Wally tried to understand, polishing one of the chrome wheels to a high luster. "You and red didn't make whoopy?"

"Who says 'whoopy' anymore?" Tyler asked, then laughed. "Whoopy... great word."

"Dude? You had her drunk, nibblin' out of your hand, and laughing after that spectacular display of singing prowess... and you _still_ didn't hit it?" Wally noted.

"Me and you singin' _Ebony and Ivory_ is hardly singing prowess," Tyler sighed, scrubbing some bird mess from a passenger window.

"Still," Wally groaned. "you had a golden opportunity."

Tyler shrugged. "Yeah... but it wasn't that bad though." He laughed a little bit. "Actually, it was kinda nice, y'know. Just chillin' with her, watchin' some Conan."

Wally froze and glared at Tyler. "What are you saying?"

"Nek's in love," Lacey called out, emerging from around a corner. "Clear as day."

Wally open-palm slapped Tyler across his face, the _smack_ echoing throughout the apparatus bay. Tyler, who's head jerked in response from the strike, rubbed his cheek.

"That can't be possible," Tyler exclaimed, shaking off his momentary stupor. "I-I mean, I do like her... a lot. A whole lot."

Wally slapped Tyler across his face again.

"Dude," Tyler growled. "You do that again and I will shove my foot so far up your ass, your tongue'll be replaced by a size fourteen Magnum work boot."

"Well stop talkin' crazy!" Wally cried.

"It's obvious to everyone else," Lacey noted. "Classic case of love at first sight."

Tyler shook his head, not buying any of what he was hearing. "No-no. Love at first sight only exists in those cheesy-ass chick flicks, television, and those Internet fantasy stories."

* * *

"Girl, you love that boy. Admit it!" Raven announced. "You wanna have like ten thousand of his babies."

"Rae!" Chelsea scoffed, then thought for a moment. "There's no way I could have _that_ many babies."

Raven cocked her trimmed eyebrow. "So you _do_ love him?"

A coy smile appeared on Chelsea's face. Her gaze fixed onto the donation jar on the counter, which only had a few dollar bills to supplement the handful of pennies.

"So when you get married, I get to design your dress, right?" Raven asked. "And I get to be the maid of honor, right?"

"Wouldn't have it any other way," Chelsea laughed.

"Well Chels, I better get back before Miss Donna has a conniption," Raven sighed, referring to her boss, the world renown clothing designer, Donna Cabonna. Raven had recently been promoted from intern, to associate designer and the last thing she wanted to do was blow her chance at greatness; it had taken her four years to get to this point.

Chelsea watched as her best friend left the Starbucks. She thought about what Raven had to say, pondering the fact of whether or not she did love Tyler. For as long as she could remember, she believed in love at first sight, but knew that it was more often than naught, simple lust. But the night she spent with him, though nothing happened since Tyler fell asleep first, was indescribable.

Basically, she loved every minute of it.

_I think... I think I do..._

Chelsea smiled, leaning on the counter, allowing random thoughts to flood her mind. _If me and Tyler have a little girl, we're naming her Jude._

* * *

With nothing better to do, Tyler and Wally engaged in a lightsaber fight using meter long cardboard tubes.

"You are strong in the force, Blackie Chan," Wally spoke, his mouth continuing to move as if his voice were being dubbed.

Tyler swung his makeshift weapon left, then right. He then jabbed forth. "I will never succumb to the dark side!"

Wally blocked Tyler's advance, juked left, and viciously swung his baton with the intention to behead Tyler, who by sheer luck dodged the blow.

"Hey!" Tyler hissed, jabbing Wally in his stomach. "Watch my grill, son!"

"Augh!" Wally cried, falling to his knees and playing the theatrics to a whole new level. "I have been slain! My apprentice will avenge me!" Wally fell flat on his face.

Tyler laughed and helped his friend up.

"Speaking of apprentices," Wally said. "When are you and Red Headed Sexiness gonna have a baby?"

"Oh you gotta be shittin' me," Tyler scoffed.

"You had better name one of 'em after me," Wally warned. "Just don't name your boy, Guy."

Tyler had to agree. "I hear ya. The name Guy's like saying your parents were too lazy to think." He then thought for a moment. "But have thought about naming my first boy, Judah."

Wally cringed. "Judah? After the MUNI line?"

Tyler shrugged. "So? Oh... and can you believe this shit? I gotta stay behind 'cause someone from second shift took the day off."

"Weak. I was gonna suggest we hit up another bar," Wally noted. "I almost got to play around with Raven that night."

"My ass!" Tyler laughed. "Besides, Raven's like ten times classier than the nasties I've seen you try to spit game at. You didn't tell her that thing you like, did you?"

"You mean the reach around as—" Wally began.

Tyler held up his hand. "Man, just stop right there. I don't even wanna hear it."

"But it feels hella ni—"

"Dude!" Tyler cried. "Have some decency!"

**Thursday Evening**

Tyler watched as his first shift counterparts packed their gear away in their lockers and headed to their homes.

"Kent?" Lieutenant Henry Shea called out, "listen man, I know you're probably pissed that you gotta stay, but man I can't begin to thank you enough. I promise you'll be outta here by tomorrow afternoon. The replacement probie should be here by then."

Tyler found out the reason that he had to work the extra day was the fact that Tim Jeter 'transferred' to Truck 22. At least, that was the official story. The true story was Tim had actually corrected the house's chief, Fordham Billingslea, on a simple statement while the chief was explaining to a group kids as to why the Fire Department typically sends a large number of equipment to even small fires. After the kids, who were on a field trip, had left, Chief Billingslea verbally ripped Jeter a new rectum. Instead of being fired, however, Jeter was booted and sent to Station 22.

"Forget about it," Tyler shrugged, waving to the last of his first shift companions. "Besides, I could use the cash."

Henry grabbed a folding chair, set it up, and took a seat. As they were outside, he grabbed a Sweet Richards cigar from his shirt pocket, and put it in the corner of his mouth. "I'm shocked you actually live in the city. Most of the guys live out in places where it doesn't cost an arm, a leg, and your balls just for a ten by ten box with a view of the bay."

Tyler let out a laugh, a bright yellow corvette driving past catching his eye. "I hear you. Me and my homeboy, Scott, are droppin' nearly twenty-five hundred for a little hobbit hole down in the Mission."

"Shit," Henry gasped. "At my age, and that price, suburb life looks damn good."

Henry was 48 years old, twice the age of Tyler and described himself as having 'The Typical White Republican Body' as his mid-section bulged out around the waist of his pants. Henry, however, was as liberal as they came as he was strongly for same-sex marriages, against the use of animal fur, and all for the legalization of marijuana, though its use was strictly forbidden by city personnel.

"You guys holdin' a pow wow?" Ken Nakamura mused, also grabbing a folding chair and taking a seat. "So you wanna take the tiller, Kent, or should I?"

"You've got the seniority," Tyler said. "It's your call."

"What a guy," Henry boasted. "Now if that dipshit Jeter would act like you, kid, then he'd... well, not be such a dipshit."

Ken chuckled as he took a swig from his Dasani water bottle.

"Hell," Henry continued. "We live in a cerebral city. You'd think some of these people would use what God gave 'em and know when to shut the fuck up."

Tyler laughed. "Man, being raised by mostly black women, I've quickly learned to shut up at a whim." He felt his cell phone vibrate. "Hang on guys."

He walked a short distance away from the station, pulled his phone from his pocket.

_HEY U. Y ARN'T U IN CLASS!!??_

Tyler rolled his eyes. He really hated text message speech. But since it was from Chelsea, he could let it slide.

_WORKING OVERTIME._ He punched in. _I GET OFF TOMORROW AFTERNOON._

A minute later, Chelsea's response came. _OIC. ILL CALL U L8R. XOXO_

He shut his phone and strolled back to the station.

"You talkin' to that girl who was in that picture?" Henry asked. "Tell 'er to drop by."

"What girl in what picture?" Tyler wondered.

"There's a picture of you and some redhead wearing your helmet," Ken explained. "It's posted on the bulletin board. So are you and her doin' the nasty?"

Tyler was beginning to get sick of that question, whether or not he and Chelsea had sex yet. Though it was on his mind—at least seventy percent of the time—it wasn't a serious priority. Even if the two were just friends, Tyler actually liked hanging around with her, be it grabbing a drink and food, or just chatting. _Screw being just friends. I like her lips and how she uses them too damn much._

"Nah," Tyler answered.

"So you one of those good boys?" Henry asked. "Savin' it for marriage?"

"I wish," Tyler huffed. "My first time was horrible. I couldn't find the damn hole to stick it in!"

Ken laughed so hard to the point where tears streamed from his small eyes and he started to choke.

"And when I did get in the groove of things," Tyler continued, "the girl just laid there like a dead sea lion. I mean, shit, some encouragement could've helped."

While Ken hunched over, still laughing, Henry nodded. "Reminds me of my first. Hell... wound up marryin' her."

The station's alarm blared, snapping the three into state of readiness, adrenaline starting to fire through. _Truck Two, Respond: Medic Call._

Since it wasn't a fire call, Tyler only put on his fleece overshirt, then hopped into the seat behind the driver, as Ken took his normal position in the tiller cab.

**Friday**

"Alright, Jim," Tyler whispered, sitting on the passenger side of the truck. "On the count of three, blast the horn."

The seven year old Jimmy, sitting in the driver's seat, hovered his hand over the horn, his tongue sticking out from the corner of his mouth as he concentrated. The cab of the truck was parked just outside of its berth portal, the rest nestled within the station.

"Target in sight," Tyler whispered, spotting a middle aged man who's demeanor screamed of being a pompous jerk. "Just about..."

The man strolled closer.

"Three... two... one..." Tyler counted down, then pumped his fist. "Contact!"

Jimmy mashed his hand into the center of the truck's steering wheel, resulting in a long, powerful blast of the truck's air horns. The man nearly jumped out of his Birkenstocks as he stumbled, startled from the horn. The man cursed, though it was illegible as Jimmy mashed the horn in a rapid fire succession.

"Nice one!" Tyler shouted, then made the cut sign, signaling for Jimmy to stop.

Jimmy pulled off the headset, protecting his ears, and gave Tyler a high five.

"What are you two doing?" someone asked, a voice Tyler instantly recognized.

He hopped down, right into the soft arms of Chelsea.

"Hello," Tyler greeted, giving her a small peck on her cheek. "Shouldn't you be at work?"

"I took off early," she whispered, then waved. "Hello Jimmy."

"Hi Tyler's Girlfriend," Jimmy returned.

"Hello Tyler's Girlfriend," Henry and Ken waved as well, peeking their heads out from the small dispatch office, with Henry adding in, "Kent? Your tour's over. Head home and treat her _nicely_."

Tyler gave a minor salute. "Yes sir." He then turned to Chelsea. "Lieutenant says I've gotta treat you nicely."

Chelsea stood on the tip of her toes. "Hopefully not too nice."

* * *

After Jimmy headed home with his mom, Tyler hopped on his motorcycle and followed Chelsea, who rode her scooter, back to her place.

"You are such a big kid," Chelsea mused as the two parked their modes of transportation.

"I know," Tyler acknowledged. "In fact, I've still got all my Legos from when I was just a lil' tike."

Chelsea laughed. "I've still got all my teddy bears from when I was just a baby back at my parents' house. I think when I have a girl, I'll give... a few to her."

"A little girl, huh?" Tyler quipped. "And what would you name this little girl?"

"Jude. Not Judy or Judith... just Jude." Chelsea noted.

Tyler nodded. "I like it. Oh! And when she starts to cry, we can sing _Hey Jude._ Or... I-I mean, you and the dad."

"Oh my God, I love that song," Chelsea gushed. "Thats where I came up with the name. And I had no clue you listened to The Beatles."

"Oh of course," Tyler exclaimed. "In fact, my mom used to sing "I Wanna Hold Your Hand" whenever we'd walk somewhere. For the longest time I thought she had made up that song... until I heard it on the radio."

"Aww," she sighed. "So what else do you listen to?"

"Well... love the Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin... there's a bunch of stuff. How 'bout you?"

Chelsea thought. "The same. Plus a lot of pop like Boyz N' Motion, Myesha, Pressure..."

"You poor poor soul," Tyler groaned. "My cousins forced me to listen to that mess."

"Hey!" she hissed. "They make very insightful music!"

"Yeah," Tyler shrugged. "You just tell yourself that."

Chelsea playfully slugged him in his arm.

"Oh don't be mad at me because they all suck," Tyler laughed.

She proceeded to strike him again, but missed as Tyler moved out of the way. "Missed me, missed me, now you gotta kiss me," he sang.

Chelsea bit her lower lip. "That can be arranged. All my roomies are gone... and I did promise that we could go further the next time."

Butterflies gathered in Tyler's stomach. "This time is the next time, right? You're not gonna pull one of those tease deals even though it was pretty freakin' sweet, right?"

She grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, pulled him down to her level, and planted a solid kiss on his lips, her tongue finding its way into his mouth. "I've seen the sweet boyish side of you," she whispered into his ear. "I'm ready for the rough man side of you."

There was something in her eyes, Tyler couldn't quite put his finger on, however, that screamed she was more than ready. "You sure you wanna see that? He's pretty untamed."

"Bring it on," she provocatively growled, leading him into her apartment.

A rare devilish smile appeared on Tyler's face. "You've been warned, sweetheart."


	13. Sky Rockets In Flight, Afternoon Delight

**It's Rated M for a reason people...

* * *

Chapter 13**

Chelsea pinned Tyler to the door, hungrily attacking his lips with her own. She felt one of his hands snake under her white work blouse, tantalizing each nerve along her spine. The two quickly swapped positions, as Tyler now had her firmly pinned to the main door inside her unit.

Her hands quickly found the large belt buckle to his pants. With nimble fingers, she undid the buckle and her hands moved to their next target: his fleece overshirt.

"Remind me to buy you a new shirt," Tyler breathed between kisses.

"Why?" she wondered.

"'Cause of this." Tyler ripped open her blouse, numerous buttons ricocheting in different directions.

"That all you got?" Chelsea gritted her teeth.

"Hardly," Tyler growled.

With one hand, he reached around, searching for the hooks to her considerably skimpy black bra. With the other hand, Tyler walked his fingers beneath her pants, finding the small of her back and feeling the minor traces of her underwear. _A thong. Very nice._ All the while, his lips were affixed to a point where her neck and jawline met.

"There's the target," he purred, finding the hooks to her bra, removing them one by one.

Chelsea shimmied her shoulders, letting her top drift off her arms and down to the floor; her brassiere barely clinging to her chest. In response, she ripped off Tyler's fleece and tossed it away—where it landed on the living room television.

"You wear too much clothing," she groaned, seeing that he had on a long sleeve turtleneck shirt with SFFD embroidered on its collar and left chest.

Tyler peeled off his final shirt. "That better?"

"Much," she purred, grazing her hand over his pectoral muscles.

She was glad to see that he had a little hair on his chest and wasn't overly toned like those Abercrombie and Fitch models she and Raven typically swooned for back in their high school days.

Chelsea wrapped her arms around his abdomen as Tyler set to work on her shoulder blades, places soft kisses in succession as he slipped her bra straps off her silk shoulders. Once both straps were free, all that held her bra in place was the pressure of their chests pressed together. In honesty, she was nervous as to how he would accept her body. She had always been fairly confident with her body, but those times she was wearing clothing. Her brief apprehension quickly vanished, noticing the warm smirk on Tyler's face, though his desire was evident on his face. With that reassurance, she released her grip around his body allowing her bra to fall.

"Thank. You. Jesus," Tyler gasped.

"You like?" Chelsea mused.

"Oh! Oh yeah," Tyler lamented.

She giggled. "How much do you like?"

Tyler licked his lips. "This much."

He cupped one of her breasts with his hand, softly pinching her pinkish nipple; he took the other nipple into his mouth, running the tip of his tongue around it. Chelsea cooed, shutting her eyes and arching her back, pressing her breast into his face. She took her hand and placed it upon Tyler's, forcing him to squeeze her mammary.

With his free hand, Tyler found the button to Chelsea's pants, which he slowly unfastened. Figuring out what was happening, Chelsea's thrust her head back, red hair flailing from the change in inertia. Suddenly, she heard a voice coming from just outside the entrance to the apartment.

"Oh fuck," she gasped.

"Dirty talk," Tyler hummed from the corner of his mouth. "Excellent."

"N-no," she stuttered, still reeling in pleasure. "Someone-someone's coming. We've gotta hide."

Tyler then heard someone's voice; high pitched, overly perky—Jeannie. _Damn it!_ Chelsea covered her chest with her arm and darted for the kitchen, hiding behind the counter island. She motioned for him to follow, however, before he could move, the door knob twisted. Instinctively, Tyler leaped and dove behind the couch just as the door opened. Luckily, Jeannie failed to notice the slew of clothing scattered around as she was busy chatting on her cell phone.

Once Jeannie was out of sight, Tyler took a breath of relief. Chelsea peered out from the edge of the island and frantically motioned Tyler to get over to her; a large smile on her face as she was finding this to be exciting.

"C'mon!" she hissed.

Slowly, Tyler tip-toed to the kitchen, only to step on a shoe, tweaking his ankle. "Shit!"

"Is someone, like, there?" Jeannie called.

Tyler froze.

"Uh... _M-meeow..."_ Chelsea distracted. "_Meeowww..."_

Tyler didn't waste time. He sprang forth, leaped over the counter island, and crouched next to Chelsea. "You think she'll buy that?" he whispered.

"She's dumb as a rock," Chelsea responded. "But this is really kinky."

Tyler moved some of her hair from the side of her face then nibbled on her ear. "Yeah... yeah it is."

"You're gonna get us caught," she hissed.

He suckled on her neck. "You know you're diggin' it."

She giggled, still clutching her breasts. "Yeah I am."

The two then heard Jeannie exit her room, still talking away on her cell phone. Quickly, they positioned themselves out of sight, though peeking their heads out from the edge of the island. After a quick look around and clothing change, Jeannie left, slamming the door behind her.

"I wonder if that kitty's still here," Jeannie asked herself, heading down the hallway to the elevator.

"I'm gonna hate myself for saying this, but that was kinda hot," Tyler noted as the two stood up from the linoleum flooring.

"That was too close," Chelsea breathed, then smirked. "So where were we?"

She hopped up, wrapping her arms around his neck and legs around his waist. Tyler felt her breasts press onto his chest, bringing up feelings he couldn't describe with words. He could also feel the burning heat emanating from her sex.

"What 'cha gonna do now, Tiger?" she bit her lower lip.

Tyler laid her onto the counter island. Chelsea kicked off her other shoe—Tyler tripped over one already—and propped her legs up, resting her feet on the edge of the counter.

_Alright, Tyler. Nice and easy._

He gripped the waist of her pants and slowly started to pull towards him. Chelsea raised her rear just enough to allow passage as Tyler continued, her trousers now at her thighs. She watched as more and more of her legs were revealed to the point where she could see her ankles. She raised her legs, the soles of her feet up towards the ceiling, and Tyler tossed her pants away onto the floor. Besides the smile on her face, all she wore was a minuscule black thong—the final barrier between her sex and the open air.

Since she was virtually nude, Tyler kicked off his black Magnum work shoes.

"If you laugh at my boxers," Tyler warned. "I am _so_ gonna bite your nipple!"

Chelsea laughed, her breasts loosely quivering.

"That's it!" Tyler hissed, removing his pants and revealing a pair of royal blue boxer shorts with dozens of Superman emblems printed on them; hunching over her body and clamping his teeth onto her nipple.

"Aaah!" she yelped, giggling to the point where her sides began to hurt.

_Good. You've got her laughing. Now it'll be just a walk in the park._

He stood up, noticing a bit of a draft coming from his front.

"Whoa," Chelsea gasped.

Tyler looked down, only to find his fully erect member prominently protruding through the opening in his underwear. He then looked at her, whose gaze was glued to his penis.

_Shit! She's probably thinking its too small or something._

She sat up, looked Tyler dead in the eye, then clutched onto his sex, her grip making up well less than half its length. Slowly, she stroked his penis, causing his left eye to twitch, his knees becoming frighteningly weak. Chelsea's other hand latched onto his member, both barely able to get a tight grip. Tyler wasn't sure how much more of this he could take before losing it.

"You sure you're a fireman?" Chelsea questioned. "Or do you do those porno flicks?"

Tyler laughed, getting all the reassurance he needed. Sure, she could have just been saying something nice to boost his confidence, but to see that it would take three of her hands to clutched his full length was a welcome sight.

_No premies! Hold it in, kid. Think of chairs... baseball... tits... No! Do not think of tits!_

"W-wait a minute," Tyler's eyes widened. "I-I don't have a condom."

"I put a diaphragm in when you dove behind the sofa," she mused.

"Good to know," Tyler said, impressed. "Please, carry on."

Chelsea inched herself closer to the edge of the counter. From his member, Tyler could feel the heat radiate from her vagina, causing a devilish look to appear on his face, as well as Chelsea's.

"We gotta remember not to eat here," Tyler joked.

"I'll let Raven know," Chelsea smirked. "But I couldn't give a shit about the other two."

Tyler grabbed onto her thong and pulled it off, removing the last article of clothing. "Well if you don't give a shit, then I don't give a shit."

Though she had come to adore the warm, boyish side of Tyler, she couldn't help but be taken by this alternate version; so assertive, authoritative—sexy. _Rae was wrong—I wanna have fifty thousand of his babies._

At the last second, Tyler removed his underwear, though it was uncomfortable for a brief moment. With one last scoot forth, Chelsea could feel his head, throbbing slightly, just a millimeter away. She took his penis in her hand and guided it towards its path.

Briefly, Tyler glanced at their organs, then back into her eyes, past the unyielding desire and raging fire within. _Good Lord, I actually love her..._

His thoughts of love soon magnified ten fold as his head made penetration. Chelsea flinched, then spread her legs slightly more apart, allowing more access. Tyler took charge, moving deeper within, Chelsea letting out a low moan in response, followed by her back arching well above the counter top. Before she could place her back onto the counter, Tyler set his arm between her body and the hard counter.

"Oh God..." she breathed, gritting her teeth as Tyler bucked his hips into hers in a slow, rhythmic motion.

Chelsea wrapped her legs around Tyler, the heels of her feet digging into the small of his back. Her breathing became sharp and erratic as he sped up his thrusting. She snagged his ears and forced his face down to hers, boring her tongue into his mouth.

"Fuck me harder," she growled.

Her voice was almost as deep as Tyler's, which startled him slightly, but not enough to stop. He pinned her arms outward, complying with her order. He could feel his climax approaching, but refused to slow in any manner. And even if he did reach his peak, he knew he'd press forth, making sure that Chelsea had her orgasm.

**45 Minutes Later**

Tyler felt weak, drained of energy, and on the verge of collapsing.

_Must... continue... Must not... collapse._

"Oh... Oh God! Oh shit!" Chelsea sat up and dug her fingernails into his back. She let out a loud, extremely deep groan, her body trembling and convulsing. "Ay, Papi!"

_Finally._

She buried her face into his chest, perspiration welling from their bodies. She was the only thing keeping Tyler from falling to the cool linoleum floor.

"Oh my God," Chelsea panted. "That-that was amazing."

She giggled, as Tyler was too winded to talk, his chest inhaling and exhaling. She gave him a soft kiss on his mouth, biting his lower lip in a gentle manner.

"We really gotta do this again..." Tyler breathed, propping is elbows on the counter before collapsing onto the floor, his legs feeling like pudding.

Chelsea hopped down from the counter and placed herself into his lap. Unlike his first time, Tyler didn't get that feeling of wanting his own space. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Chelsea herself was also completely zapped of energy, but knew Tyler had pushed past his limit to make her climax, as she felt his occur a few times within.

"I should probably take a shower," Chelsea whispered.

"Yeah..." he breathed, his energy starting to recuperate. "I-I mean, you don't smell or anything..."

Chelsea chuckled. "Good to know. So you joinin' me or do I have to get clean alone?"

Tyler wasn't even sure if he could stand, let alone walk the short distance to the bathroom as well as the possibility of a second go around sex wise. _What the hell am I thinking? I'll crawl if I need to._

"Do lets," Tyler mused. "Please lead on."

Chelsea stood up, followed by Tyler, who's legs were a little shaky. She took his hand and led him to the bathroom, Tyler's eyes affixed on her buttocks as he cocked his head quizzically as she stepped. Once in the bathroom, Tyler took a seat on the toilet while Chelsea started up the water.

"You do know if you keep bending over," Tyler quipped. "We're gonna christen this bathroom like we did the kitchen."

Chelsea peered over her shoulder, slyly grinning. "You're not outta gas?"

"For you, sweetheart, I could muster a lil' more," Tyler smirked, the steam from the hot water helping his body to recharge.

She pulled the valve on the tub's main faucet, activating the shower head, some of the spray catching her face. "Bath time, baby."

Chelsea, followed by Tyler, hopped into the shower, the hot water beating into their bodies.

"I don't have any soap," Tyler groaned.

"I could rub you down with mine?" she offered, her tongue nestled between her upper and lower teeth.

Tyler took the bottle of lavender scented soap, then squeezed some into his hand. "Sounds like a hell of a plan."

Chelsea turned her back to him, pressing her rear into him. Tyler lathered up the liquid soap in his hands, then rubbed some onto her stomach. For the most part, Tyler erection was gone, however, it was returning all over again.

"You're gonna smell like a girly girl," Chelsea joked.

"There's worse things," Tyler countered. "Like this—" Tyler snaked his hand from her belly button, to her lower abdomen, nearing her pelvic region. "Or there's always this." He walked his fingers lower along her water soaked, soaped body, his finger tips tantalizing her all over again. "And there's always this." His fingers found her sex, sending a shock throughout her nerves.

"Ooh you are too cruel," she growled, then reached around and snagged onto his organ. "But two can play that game."

Tyler spun her around so she was facing him. "You're a freak, y'know."

She propped her leg up, Tyler catching it in his hand, then placed her arms around his neck, drawing herself closer. "And thats why you love me."

Tyler grinned, the word _love_ blowing away some of the rekindled sexual drive. "Yeah. Yeah I do."


	14. Long Walks And Revelations

**Chapter 14**

Raven found Chelsea sitting up on her futon, watching some television and sipping a Corona. By the strange look, Raven at first thought Chelsea was drunk, until she noticed a twinkle in her friend's eye.

"Girl!" Raven cried. "You and Tyler had sex! Tell me _everything._"

Chelsea grinned. "Rae? It was amazing."

Raven plopped down on the futon. "Did he know how to use it? Was it big?" She bit her lower lip tightly, squealing with excitement.

"It was like an hour of all out passion," Chelsea reminisced. "He just wouldn't stop. And, Rae? He was packin'. I could barely get my hand around it."

"Shut up!" Raven shrieked, astonished.

"He even got me to scream out 'Ay Papi'," Chelsea continued. "I haven't even spoken a lick of Spanish since high school. I-I was only expecting a lil' afternoon quickie... but then we messed around in the shower, too."

It was one of those rare moments as Raven was left completely speechless. Her eyes were wide open with shock and her mouth slightly ajar.

"So who made the first move?" Raven finally asked after a long period of quiet on her part.

Chelsea grabbed another Corona and popped its cap off. "Neither of us. One thing led to another, he said a goofy remark, then a minute later we were goin' at it like jack rabbits fresh outta prison. By the way, avoid eating from the kitchen counters."

Raven furrowed her brow. "Do Jeannie and Summer know?"

"Hell no," Chelsea scoffed. "Well, actually, Jeannie almost caught us in the act. I mean, all I had on were my pants 'cause Tyler tore my shirt and stole my bra. But we both hid, kinda in plain sight." Chelsea laughed. "Kinda like when we would hide when we'd try and get into stuff. Remember?"

Raven nodded. "Yeah. Good times... good times. So Jeannie didn't even see you?"

"Nope," Chelsea shook her head. "I was hiding behind the island and Tyler dove behind the couch."

"And she still didn't see y'all?" Raven huffed. "Dumb bitch. So then what?"

Chelsea continued. "Well? That's when we did _it._ Then we hopped in the shower, fooled around some more, then he headed on home about half an hour ago."

"Did y'all say you love each other?" Raven joked.

Chelsea thought for a moment. "I might've suckered him into sayin' it."

Raven grinned and hummed _The Wedding March._ Chelsea laughed, but had to admit that the thought had crossed her mind.

* * *

"Talks, what up," Tyler greeted as he walked into his apartment.

"Nekbone," Scott acknowledged, noticing a strange smile on his face. "Beer?"

Tyler plopped down on the couch next to his friend and grabbed a bottle of brew. "Dude? I am _so_ glad I went the fireman route."

"Nooner?" Scott asked, taking a swig of his Budweiser and watching the baseball scores scroll across the television.

"A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell," Tyler mused, popping off the cap to his beer. "But I did get her to scream 'Ay Papi'."

Scott glanced at Tyler, nodding in approval. "You got her to cum?"

"Yeah," Tyler nodded. "And it wasn't one of those fake ones. It was the genuine thing, my brotha'."

"Well gimme some details," Scott stated. "Y'know, measurements... some play by play."

"B-cups, maybe C's—I've never been good with bra measurements," Tyler grinned. "All I know is that they filled my palms nicely."

"Your big ass hands?" Scott wondered. "Then they must be D's."

"Nah," Tyler waved off. "I mean, they were fantastic, but if she had D's, her back would snap."

Scott nodded. "Not bad, not bad."

"Long story short," Tyler mused. "We christened the hell outta her kitchen and now I smell like lavender breeze after takin' a shower."

"With her?" Scott asked, clearly impressed.

Tyler nodded, then thought for a moment. For some reason, his innards felt strange—topsy-turvy, but in a welcome way. _No... there's no way. I've only known her for a month. I can't be... I just can not be..._

"Dude?" Tyler sighed. "As of 7:53pm, Pacific Daylight Time on Friday, April 6th, 2007, I have officially fallen in love." He took a chug from his bottle of Coors. "God help me."

"You're fucked," Scott noted.

"Yep." Tyler stood up. "I need to go for a long walk or somethin'."

With that, he got up, walked out of his apartment, and into the evening. By now, The Mission's nightlife hadn't started yet, at least, not for another hour. The final remnants of rush hour streamed along Mission Avenue; buses packed with people vying to get home and start their weekend. High above, the sky was a deep indigo as twilight was ending and night began to set in. The atmosphere had a fresh scent, reminding him of home in the Northwest.

"I hope it's gonna rain," he said to himself, noticing some ominous looking clouds off in the western sky.

Tyler strolled northward along 16th Street. Though he was hungry, and the Mission had tons of places to get great Mexican food, he just didn't feel like stopping. He continued walking until he made it to Market Street, cursing the fact that there were so many hills.

Walking northeast along Market, Tyler watched as couples walked hand in hand, most heading out for an evening meal before drinking themselves into the weekend.

An hour later, Tyler arrived at the San Francisco Shopping Centre. He crossed the street, jogged through Hallidie Plaza, and onto the cul de sac of Powell Street, where a mile or so north was the fire station, and Chelsea's apartment. He made up his mind—to Chelsea's place it was.

"Wait," he muttered to himself. "I don't even remember what unit she's in. Shit!"

High above, bolts of lightning rippled through the clouds, followed by the rumbling crack of thunder, off in the distance. Tyler looked up, only to be nailed in the center of his face by a large drop of water, followed by another, until a steady sprinkling of precipitation dampened him, as well as everything else.

"Man have I missed the rain," he remarked, continuing northward along Powell.

* * *

Chelsea stepped out onto the balcony, taking in the fresh smelling atmosphere. A fine mist clung to her face as the rain drops impacted onto her apartment building, the resulting spray ricocheting all over. She thought about heading back inside as the rain was picking up steam. However, she saw someone walking towards the building. Since it was dark, she couldn't quite make out who the person was, until he walked under a street lamp.

Chelsea grabbed her cell phone and quickly hit the CALL button.

"_I was just about to call and see what apartment number was your's,"_ Tyler answered.

"I must be a psychic," Chelsea responded. "Actually, I can see you... and you don't even have an umbrella."

Tyler laughed. "_It's just a lil' rain, ma. So are you gonna tell me which number or am I gonna have to embarrass myself by knocking on random doors?"_

"Embarrass yourself!" Chelsea exclaimed, hanging up on him in the process and laughing to herself. "Oh he's gonna have my ass for this."

Chelsea went inside and waited by the front door. After five minutes, she sat down, eagerly waiting. Ten minutes passed, and the warm, giddy feeling she had was still within, though she was becoming impatient. _Maybe I shoulda given him a hint._

Finally, after fifteen minutes, there was a knock on the door. Chelsea scrambled up to her feet and opened the door, finding a soaked Tyler with a scowl on his face.

"Took ya long enough," she griped. "It's not like you _weren't_ here earlier. You must've knocked on a hell of a lotta doors."

"You are very lucky I like you," Tyler hissed, then grinned. "So let's go outside."

"But it's raining," Chelsea noted.

"So?" Tyler retorted. "Let's head to the roof. I'm sure no one's up there."

Chelsea looked at Tyler as if he had lost his mind. "It's wet out!"

Tyler rolled his eyes. "Well in the northwest, we call it liquid sunshine. Now put some flip-flops—and I know ya got some. It's like a constitutional law for all college women to have at least two pairs of flip-flops. Let's go before the rain stops."

"You're kidding right?" Chelsea huffed.

"Girl?" Tyler warned. "I will toss you over my shoulder and carry you out."

"Fine," Chelsea rolled her eyes, slipping her feet into a bright red pair of flip-flops. "Happy?"

Tyler grabbed her and gingerly tossed her over his shoulder, Chelsea yelping, but loving every second. "Very happy. Oh... and this is how we in the fire service rescue damsels in distress."

With a firm grip on her, Tyler made his way to a stairwell, then ascended two flights until he reached the doorway that led onto the roof of the structure. With his boot, he kicked the door open, then set Chelsea down.

"That was... interesting," she remarked, stepping onto the rain soaked, black roof paneling.

Tyler walked out, large rain drops falling everywhere. "Stop bein' a Californian and get out here," he shouted over the noise of the nearby air conditioning unit and the sound of the rain.

_What the hell... _Chelsea stepped out towards Tyler, their bodies soaked from only a minute of exposure. "It's a little on the wet side. I'm just sayin'."

"This is one of the things I miss about home," Tyler reminisced, looking up into the dark, rain-filled cumulus clouds in the night sky. "One of the cool things was when it would rain cats and dogs, but there'd be a large break in the clouds and the sun would shine though it was still pouring."

She saw a new side of Tyler—the one that seemed vulnerable; insecure. She thought about dropping a sarcastic line, but something prevented her from doing so. Instead, she embraced him, then looked up at the sky as well.

"I remember," he continued, "when I was hired on for Portland's Fire Bureau, it was raining crazy hard. Hailing too. Well, off on the west side of town, the sun was shining brightly, and—it was just kinda strange, y'know.

"Then, when I was notified that the San Francisco department accepted me, the exact same weather was happening." He looked down at Chelsea, her hair clinging to the sides of her face. "I never thought I'd end up in the Bay Area, but I'm sure as shootin' glad I did."

By his warm gaze, Chelsea knew that final remark was intended for her. Instinctively, she blushed.

"Now if I try and blush, either nothing happens or I just get blacker," Tyler joked.

"Well we can't all be awesome like me," Chelsea proudly stated, then recalled. "And I remember back when I was little, my mom would tell me that the rain was Earth giving itself a shower." She softly laughed. "Oh, and I also remember back in middle school. We started a community garden... and it rained _so_ hard. I mean, the dirt was mud in seconds and Raven refused to come and help 'cause she didn't wanna mess up her new hair do."

"So what happened?" Tyler wondered.

"Well... I just tried working through it," she grinned. "And I got so muddy—but it was alotta fun. Hell, instead of paying an arm and a leg at a spa, I got a workout and a mud bath for free."

Tyler smiled, but then went serious. "Listen, Chelsea. I-I didn't really come here just to drag you out here in the rain. After what went down earlier, I didn't wanna be one of those guy's who just ... you know, has their way then leaves."

"So you came here—walked no less—just to tell me that?" Chelsea asked.

Tyler nodded, his eyesight affixed to a smoke stack. "I would've picked up some chocolates and flowers for you, but that would make this like a chick-flick or something." He noticed the scornful look on her face. "N-not that chick-flicks are bad or anything..."

"Nice save," Chelsea smirked. "So is there any other revealing things you wanna tell me?"

He thought for a moment. "Well... in high school, I weighed three hundred pounds, but worked my ass off and got down to about two-thirty. Thank you very much 24 Hour Fitness. Um... I love going to the movies with my mom. Oh, I watch the Disney Channel constantly 'cause there's this one show with a ridiculously hot red-head. And coincidentally, you look _exactly _like her. And, like Scott, I've got a thing for feet too. Not as bad as he's got it... but red or blue nail polish and toe rings and ankle bracelets just make me go insane."

Chelsea looked at him in a shocked manner, not expecting to hear so much. "Is that all?"

Tyler scrunched his face, shuffling through his mind. "None that I can think of. Anything you wanna spill in this confessional session?"

"Well'p," Chelsea hummed. "Back in high school, I almost wanted to become a cop."

"A cop?" Tyler questioned. "You? A Five-Oh? I couldn't see it."

"Well, my old teacher, Mister Grabinsky, messed up our career placement test answers, so I got to go on a ride-along with a detective." Chelsea explained. "Then, I handcuffed Raven, but I lost the keys. She was pretty pissed."

"I'll bet," Tyler laughed. "But I bet if it went how I'm hoping it went, there was some girl on girl—"

She kneed Tyler fairly close to his groin. "Nothing remotely like that happened! But just so you know, I have kissed Raven before... on the lips."

Tyler's moment of pain vanished and his face it up. "Say what?!"

"Me, Raven, and Eddie all went to Cancun for our first college Spring Break," Chelsea said. "There were Girls Gone Wild cameras everywhere... not to mention plenty of alcohol."

"Hold on," Tyler interrupted. "Don't tell me you flashed for Girls Gone Wild."

"Let me finish!" She hissed. "Anyway, me and Rae and Eddie had _way_ too many mojitos and margaritas. Well one thing led to another. I gave Eddie a kiss, then Rae gave him a kiss. Then, me and Rae started to kiss."

"Wow..." Tyler breathed, imagining the kiss between Raven and Chelsea. "So... is there any possibility of that occurring again? And if it does, is there the possibility of my involvement?"

"Maybe for your birthday... if you're good," Chelsea mused.

"My birthday's next month," Tyler stated. "I think I can wait 'til then. And when do I get to meet this Eddie character? 'Cause I need to have a chat with him as to how he could _only_ be friends with you and Raven."

"Someday," Chelsea sighed, then huffed. "And I knew you had a foot fetish! I noticed you playin' around with my feet earlier!"

"Hey!" Tyler retorted. "They were cool and I was burnin' up! I needed some relief!"

She slyly smiled. "Well... I-I kinda liked it too. In fact, I've kinda had a fantasy about someone—you now—licking whipped cream off my toes."

"Lickin' that off, while tantalizing for you," Tyler noted, "will go straight to my buns and thighs. But I'll take that risk... just for you."

"Does that mean you're spendin' the night?" Chelsea hoped.

Tyler pondered for a second. "Well... I do owe you a new shirt since I manhandled yours earlier. And it would be easier to just head down to the Shopping Centre from here instead of doing all that meet-up crap. But if I stay, you gotta buy the pizza 'cause I don't have cash. Besides, I payed for everything last time and chivalry is dead."

"I think I can rustle up some pizza money," Chelsea tapped her chin.

"Cool! Now I want pepperoni, bacon, ground beef, sausage—" Tyler trailed off, noticing the scornful look on her face. "Oh yeah... I forgot. Cheese is fine, I guess." _Damn vegetarians!_


	15. Ride Along

**Chapter 15**

Battalion Chief Gilmartin Hughes ordered everyone to attention. "Alright, listen up. The department's getting' a new batch of probies fresh outta the academy."

"So? What's that gotta do with us?" Aimee asked.

"What that means," Chief Hughes remarked, "is that we're going back to the standard 24-on 48 off schedule starting next month."

"What about our pay?" Lieutenant Gary Matenoupolis asked—a big question that clouded the minds of the others.

"Salaries'll remain the same," Hughes stated, much to the relief of the others. "That's it for announcements, so lets have a good shift, everyone."

While he loved his job, Tyler was glad to no longer be working three and a half day shifts. As there wasn't much to do along the lines of cleaning or maintenance, Tyler took a seat on the front bumper of Truck 2 and watched as the Monday morning commuters went along their way, traversing the fogged in city.

"Well'p girl," Tyler said, running his hand over the truck's polished chrome bumper, "hopefully we'll have a good one today."

From his pants pocket, he pulled out his Ipod, until a jokingly gruff voice snapped at him. "If ya got time to lean, ya got time to clean!"

Tyler looked up, only to find both Chelsea and Raven standing there with their arms folded tightly across their chests.

"I'll get up when an alarm goes—" Tyler waved, quickly interrupted by the station's alarm.

_Engine Two, Respond: Car fire at the corner of Taylor and Eddy._

Chelsea pulled Raven out of the way just in time and Engine Two roared from its berth and turned southward, sirens blaring.

"How come you're not going?" Raven wondered, regaining her composure.

Before he could talk, Chelsea took the liberty of explaining, much to his relief. He gave her an inconspicuous gesture of gratitude.

"So what brings you two by?" Tyler asked.

Chelsea smirked. "Well... I think I just needed my chocolate fix a lil' early."

Tyler nodded while Raven rolled her eyes. Suddenly, he got an idea. "Hey? You guys wanna do a ride along?"

"What's that?" Raven inquired."

"Well, you guys fill out some forms, then for a day, you get to spend it with me... well, us. Here at the station," Tyler explained. "You get to go on our calls, see what we do—all that good stuff."

"We wouldn't have to work real hard, right?" Raven wondered. "I mean, y'all won't be sendin' us into fires and stuff, right?"

Tyler shook his head.

"How 'bout it, Rae?" Chelsea was clearly excited about this. "I know I'm in."

Raven thought for a moment. "Fine. But how'm I gonna explain this to Miss Cabonna?"

"I;m sure she'd understand," Tyler said.

"You obviously haven't met Donna Cabonna," Raven scoffed. "Even on a good day, she can be a pain in the ass."

"I hear ya," Tyler nodded, pondering for a brief second. "I think I can help you there."

Before they could say anything else, Tyler disappeared into the station. A minute later, he returned with a set of paperwork for the two of them. "Chief said he'll take care of it. He just needs you to fill this out and we'll have you scheduled for Thursday, the 26th."

"So now I can help you do your job like you helped me," Chelsea noted.

Raven rolled her eyes again. "Listen, Chelsea told me of your escapades on Friday..."

Tyler nervously grinned while Chelsea blushed to a shade of maroon. "Just make sure you get those forms filled out."

Watching them leave, Tyler leaned against Truck Two as Chelsea took a quick glance back his way. While he had confirmed to himself that he loved Chelsea, there was something about Raven that he found appealing. She had a wit that reminded him much of his cousin, Kim, who lived back in Portland.

"Wait a minute... Kim still owes me forty bucks," Tyler huffed. "Damn it all to hell."

**Two and a Half Weeks Later: Thursday, April 26th.**

"Man, that two and a half weeks went by fast," Raven noted.

"Yeah," Chelsea added. "It's like someone just placed some bold typing, separating a long period of time."

"No joke." Raven stopped at crosswalk on the corner of Powell and Broadway. "I hope they have some breakfast or something for us. It's too damn early to be awake."

"Rae?" Chelsea groaned. "It's only nine in the morning."

"Like I said... too damn early."

The two marched across the roadway and right into the presence of Tyler, who stood with two navy blue fleece overshirts. "You're late."

Chelsea gave him a small peck on his cheek. "Sorry. Rae couldn't find the right shoes."

"It's cool. I'm just messin' with y'all," Tyler grinned. "Hungry?"

"Hell yeah!" Raven lamented.

Tyler led the two upstairs into the kitchen, where most of the station's crew were busy filling their plates with scrambled eggs, bacon, fried potatoes, and toast. As soon as the three walked in, all activity in the kitchen came to a halt. Chelsea and Raven became petrified as piercing eyes affixed onto them.

"Guys? I'd like you all to meet Raven Baxter and Chelsea Daniels," Tyler introduced. "Raven? Chelsea? These are the guys."

The single male firefighters quickly made acquaintances with Raven, as they knew Chelsea was off limits; Wally, strangely enough, keeping his distance.

"Have a seat, grab some chow," Aimee offered. "Tyler made all of it and its pretty damn good."

The two obliged and grabbed a modest amount of food. Once settled, they listened in on some of the war stories the older station veterans shared.

"Whoa..." Raven gasped, biting into her eggs and potatoes. "These are awesome."

"There as good as your Dad's, Rae," Chelsea noted.

"Nek's one a the best cooks Two House's had in a while," Gary tipped. "Where is that truckie son of a mother anyway?"

* * *

While the others ate breakfast, Tyler set to work, making sure the truck was ship shape to handle two extra passengers without hindering normal operation. Though he knew he shouldn't, he hoped something big would happen, like a major fire or rescue situation, just to show off to Chelsea.

"Kent?" Chief Hughes gruffly greeted. "Why aren't you eating breakfast?"

"Just makin' sure the truck's in good shape, Sir," Tyler returned, tightening a bolt on one of the portable jump seats.

"Good. And I know you're _close_ with one of the visitors," Chief Hughes added, "so keep the lovey-dovey fraternizing outta my house."

"Yes sir," Tyler nervously replied.

"Well..." Hughes began, "at least keep it outta sight."

As soon as he marched off, the newspaper nestled under his arm, Chelsea emerged. "Hey sexy."

Tyler grinned. "So was breakfast okay? The guys didn't ride you too hard or anything, right?"

"Breakfast was great." Chelsea grabbed a folding chair and took a seat next to where he was working. "You'll have to make breakfast for me some more."

Tyler peered out, making sure there was no one in sight. Satisfied, he reached out and pulled Chelsea onto him, using the rear passenger door to shield them from any onlookers.

"What are you doing?" Chelsea whispered.

"Trying not to get us in trouble," Tyler purred, planting a solid kiss on her lips.

Chelsea pulled back for a brief moment, catching her breath. "In case I didn't say it earlier, I know we haven't known each other that long... but, God I love you."

"I know," Tyler mused, prepping to pul her down for another kiss, but was rudely interrupted by the station's alarm. "Of all times..."

_Ladder Two; Respond—_

Tyler didn't bother to listen to the rest. "That's our cue."

"Wha-what?" Chelsea's eyes went wide. "Is there a fire? What's going on?"

Raven jogged down the stairway while Aimee, Jamie, Lacey, and Wally, slid down the brass fire poles.

"I don't think it's a fire," Tyler huffed, helping Chelsea into her seat. "Sounds like a rescue call."

"Aww were you two fuckin' in the truck?" Wally mocked. "I better not sit in any Tnek juice."

Tyler and Chelsea exchanged glances with each other, then glared at Wally, who helped Raven into her seat. "Kiss my glorious golden ass!" Both hissed.

Just as Tyler grabbed his helmet and reached the tiller of the truck, Jamie started the motor, engaging the strobing lights. Once seated, Truck 2 roared from its bay. Up front, both Chelsea and Raven gazed out the windows, watching as people moved out of the way as the red apparatus tore down Powell.

"How you guys likin' it so far?" Lacey yelled over the siren.

"Does this thing have a radio?" Raven hollered. "Or a CD or Mp3 player?"

Before Raven could get an answer, the truck came to a halt at the corner of California and Kearny, in the shadow of the Bank of America Center. Already on scene were a handful of police cars as well as two ambulances. Everyone, Chelsea and Raven included, hopped off the truck while Aimee got a situation report from one of the on scene police officers.

"Chels," Raven groaned, looking up at the 601 California Street building. "I've said it once before and I'll say it again—we live in a _very_ weird city."

The others all nodded in agreement as they each gazed up at a person perched outside of a fifth floor window clutching a banner that stated _GUNS, OIL, AND SCIENTOLOGY KILLS_.

"I gotta agree," Wally huffed. "That Scientology shit's fucked up three ways to Albuquerque."

"Amen," Tyler noted.

Aimee returned. "Alright: Wally? You get the jacks set. Jamie, you got the ladder. Tyler? You're gonna impress the hell outta your girlfriend and pluck that crazo before he decides to jump. Let's make a difference people."

"Let's just hope Xenu doesn't decide to zap us from the cosmos," Jamie joked.

"Hell, lets just hope Tom Cruise doesn't show up and has a hillbilly go-off on us," Tyler huffed, grabbing his helmet. He then turned to Chelsea. "Pray that I don't slip."

Before she could say anything, Tyler clambered up to the turntable, where Jamie manned the levers that controlled the massive telescoping ladder. Once Wally had the stabilizing outriggers set, Jamie activated the hydraulic system, raising the ladder high into the sky and swinging it towards the skyscraper.

"Don't worry," Lacey reassured Chelsea, who looked overly nervous. "He's done this tons a' times."

By now, news vans from ABC, CBS, NBC, and FOX arrived, each vying to catch a juicy story for the day.

"Sharks are here," Jamie gruffed.

"Think we'll get on the mid-day news?" Tyler grinned.

Jamie shrugged. "We damn well better. I'll keep the stick steady for ya. Go get 'em."

Tyler took a deep breath, placed his foot on the first step of the extended ladder, then started to climb. _Not even 25 yet and I'm already gettin' too old for this._

"You're just another Scientologist pawn, sent here to silence me!" The man spat. "I will not be—"

"Okay, that one hurt," Tyler said, reaching the tip of the ladder. "I happen to be a red blooded, God fearing American. And everyone in their right mind knows Scientology's just a crock that that Hubbard guy came up with to make a quick buck. It's common knowledge."

The man started to protest, until he found out that Tyler was on his side. "So... you hate it too?"

Tyler settled himself. "Well... I don't hate the people who are Scientologists. But I can't say I'm a real fan of how they go about their business."

The man nodded. "I can respect that." The man peered over and noticed the media vans down below. "So are you up here to arrest me or something?"

"Me? Nah," Tyler huffed, feeling the ladder shudder from a breeze. "I'm just here to make sure you don't implant yourself onto the sidewalk below. But I'll bet my bottom dollar that the boys in blue'll might arrest you, even though I'm pretty sure they agree."

The man took another look down at the massing crowd, as did Tyler, who spotted Chelsea as she was staring right back at him. He also got an indication of exactly how high up he was. While he didn't have a fear of heights, he sure as hell wasn't comfortable.

"Well... I think I got my message across," The man said. "The arrest'll make me famous."

_Thank God._ The man shimmied himself along the minuscule window ledge, then stepped onto the ladder.

"Alright," Tyler instructed. "I'll head down first to make sure you don't slip. And as soon as you get out from incarceration, you seriously deserve a drink."

"I don't drink alcohol," The man stated as they descended.

"Well, I'm sure theres a Jamba Juice or somthin'" Tyler replied.

Once down at the surface, the man was quickly apprehended by the police, though many onlookers cheered in support of him.

"That was a nice start for a Thursday," Tyler sighed as Jamie gave him a pat on the back.


	16. Ride Along Part Deux: The Fire

**Sorry for the long delay people. But to make up for lost time, this one's a super sized chapter. Hope you all like it and once again, thanks for the reviews.

* * *

Chapter 16**

Tyler took a few swigs from his water bottle, still reeling from an adrenaline rush brought on from the recovery earlier. Next to him, Chelsea stood with her arms tightly folded across her chest as it was still chilly outside.

"So?" Chelsea hummed. "What's the plan for later?"

"Later?" Tyler grinned. "I dunno. We should probably go to class."

She slung her arm within his. "We _could _go to class—" Chelsea stood on her toes and whispered in his ear. "Or we could go back to my place. I could take some things off you and you take some off me."

"Oh..." Tyler purred. "I like that idea. So exactly what would I be taking off you?"

Chelsea bit her lower lip. "Well, I know you like red. So I picked up a lil' somethin' from Victoria's Secret—"

"Are you wearing it now?" Tyler interrupted. "'Cause if you are—"

She laughed. "Nah, I'm not wearing them now. But as soon as we head home..."

A large grin curled his lips. The fact that he was still on an adrenaline high didn't help as he nearly let out a high pitch squeal. His minor euphoria he was feeling quickly vanished, as did Chelsea's, as the two heard someone yelling for help.

"_Stop that man! He's got my baby!"_ Someone yelled.

"Did you just—" Tyler asked.

"Yeah, I heard it," Chelsea nodded, just as Wally and Aimee emerged from the apparatus bay portal.

"_Don't make me run you son of a bitch!"_ Someone—a cop—shouted.

"What the hell's goin' on?" Aimee inquired.

Her question was quickly answered as they watched a man pushing a baby stroller rocket past, followed by a police officer who was in no shape to be on a foot chase. The members of the station exchanged glances with each other, trying to comprehend exactly what had just happened. Without thinking, Tyler bolted after the stolen stroller—followed by Chelsea.

"Damn, Red's got some wheels," Wally remarked.

Raven peeked her head out, finding her best friend sprinting along with Tyler, obviously chasing down someone. _Chels always could fly._

* * *

"Stop that guy!" Tyler yelled, hoping someone would comply—to which they didn't. "Thanks a lot, Nob Hill residents." 

Tyler managed to see a blur or red hair rip past him. Before he could react, Chelsea had caught up with the assailant and tripped him up by swiping at his legs. The man stumbled, losing control of the stroller that now rolled freely; Chelsea darting out of the way. Tyler leaped over the downed man and raced after the stroller, which was quickly approaching a busy intersection. _Oh for the love of Pete!_

He gritted his teeth and willed his legs to move faster—quickly noticing the last thing he needed: an approaching bus. _Oh shit! _Tyler reached out his hand...

...And made contact with the stroller.

"Hang on," Tyler huffed. "I gotcha! I gotcha!"

He snagged the stroller and hit the brakes, stopping just as the Muni Bus blazed through the intersection. Taking a deep breath of relief, Tyler checked inside the stroller finding an infant, no older than 1. The baby opened her eyes, blinked a few times, then reached her chubby hands out, requesting to be picked up. Complying, Tyler scooped her up with his left arm— using his right to push the stroller—and marched back.

"So what's you're name?" Tyler cooed, knowing the child couldn't talk.

The infant looked at him, then at something within the carriage of her stroller. Tyler caught the hint and grabbed a small Beanie Baby teddy bear, which she nuzzled once received.

"Oh my God, she's adorable!" Chelsea squealed as Tyler approached. "And look how happy she is."

"Well she obviously has good taste in men," Tyler smirked. "And how 'bout you, trippin' up that guy. Getting' all Chuck Norris-like."

"Well, I did a ride along with the police back in high school," Chelsea explained as they walked back to the station, where a few cops as well as the baby's mother waited. "And since then, I kinda thought about being a police officer."

Tyler cocked his eyebrow. "Y'know, everyone hates cops until they need one. And even then..."

Chelsea scoffed. "Oh everyone loves me! And they'd love me even if I was a police officer."

Tyler was preoccupied playing with the infant and her small Beanie Baby, making innocent roaring sounds and tickling her in her stomach, causing the child to giggle. Chelsea watched how he interacted with the baby and vice versa, taken by his apparent father-like skills.

"Y'know? You'd make a great dad someday," Chelsea softly said. "First with Jimmy, and now her. Kids just love you."

"Yeah... I'm just gifted," Tyler joked.

Back at the station, the two were greeted with adulation by the other firefighters, as well well as the police officers, and most importantly, the child's mother, who wept once her baby was given back to her.

"Bless you," she sobbed. "Thank you for saving my little Abby."

"Just doin' our job," Wally beamed, to which Tyler glared as Wally didn't help at all.

**Three Hours Later**

"Okay," Jamie smirked. "Whoever does the most push ups in one minute gets braggin' rights for the rest of the day. Competitors? Are you ready?"

Already in position, Tyler glanced forward at his opponent—Chelsea—who glared right back.

"Nek? If you lose this, Red's gonna own your ass," Wally noted.

"He's already my lil' bitch," Chelsea hissed.

Everyone gasped, erupting in laughter. Tyler was shocked by her comment, but found it hilarious.

"Dude! Ten bucks on Red," Wally cried.

"I got fifty on her," Lacey added in."

"Five bucks and some change," Enzo exclaimed.

"What the hell!?" Tyler huffed. "So much for camaraderie."

"Let's go Chels," Raven cheered. "Show 'em how we do!" Lacey, Aimee, and Raven then threw up the peace sign with their hands, exclaiming in a thick English accent, "Girl Power!"

"Well if we're done with the trash talking, let's get it on," Jamie stated. "Ready?"

"Bring it on, _Chels,_" Tyler challenged.

"Oh it's signed, sealed, delivered, and brought, _Tnek!_" Chelsea retorted.

"Go!" Jamie yelled.

Chelsea and Tyler started doing their push ups as the others cheered, chanting them along. In a rhythmic manner, the two lifted and lowered themselves. After ten push ups, Tyler's arms felt like they were about to explode, but there was no way in hell he was going to be shown up by Chelsea—

—A girl.

His fear of being outperformed soon became a reality. Tyler looked up for a second and found that Chelsea had tucked her right arm behind her back, using her weaker left arm to do her push ups. Hoots and hollers echoed throughout the apparatus bay, some grabbing their wallets and placing higher bets. Tyler's embarrassment caused a surge of adrenaline to pulse through his body, negating the burning in his forearms, triceps, and biceps.

"Girl? Looks like you got Tyler mad," Raven remarked, noticing that he had drastically sped up his rate.

"And... time!" Jamie called.

"Kent? You suck!" Enzo exclaimed.

Tyler took a deep breath and rested for a moment. "You really think it's smart to say that to the guy who's makin' lunch?"

The relentless taunting ceased immediately. Every fire fighter quickly apologized.

"Now you know we was only kiddin', right?" Lieutenant Gary stammered, to which he was given a stiff elbow in the ribs by Aimee.

"Oh no," Tyler waved off. "Y'all done up and done it now. Don't be surprised to find some ipecac in your food today."

"Find what?" Raven asked?

"Ipecac," Lacey explained. "Stuff to make you puke. Violently."

"Yep. We're fucked," Wally groaned as Tyler sauntered upstairs to the kitchen, a smug grin on his face.

"He wouldn't really do that, would he?" Raven wondered.

"Nah," Aimee stated. "He's too much of a push over. Now Wally, he would in a heartbeat."

"Bullshit!" Wally protested.

"Well all I know is, when ever it's your turn to cook, we always go down to Sam Wo's for some take-out," Jamie claimed.

"That's just 'cause you people don't know true Irish cooking," Wally huffed.

Enzo rolled his eyes. "Irish cookin' my ass. After havin' some of your food, I had the shits for hours."

While the others went back and forth, complaining of Wally's lack of culinary skill, Chelsea caught up to Tyler and joined him in the kitchen.

"I didn't mean to embarrass you," she admitted. "Just got caught up in the moment, y'know."

Tyler chuckled. "Aww it's no big deal. I'm used to it." He bent down and shuffled around in one of the cabinets for a large pot.

"So you get shown up by girls a lot?" Chelsea questioned.

"Yeah," he responded over the clatter of shifting cookware. "My cousins, who are kinda like my sisters, always try and one up me. Any of your family try to best you in anything?"

She thought for a moment. "Nah. Actually, I was the one who did the one upping."

Tyler peered over his shoulder. "Hmm. Well you and my cousins would get along just fine."

Chelsea smiled. "Yeah, well I put it in check once I got to high school. There I acted kinda ditzy so I wouldn't get shunned for being—"

"A snobby, stuck-up bitch-a-roo," Tyler interrupted, much to Chelsea's chagrin.

"Well when you put it like that," she huffed.

"Sorry," he apologized, setting a large pot onto the stove. "So were you one of the populars?"

"I dunno," Chelsea admitted. "I mean, I knew a lotta people, but I mainly stuck around Raven and Eddie. At Veggie Camp, though, I was pretty popular."

Tyler cocked his eyebrow. "Veggie Camp? Seriously? I can already tell there's no way in hell I'd last there."

"Oh it's not that bad," Chelsea scoffed. "I mean, if my friend Jennifer can be the staunch vegan she is and live in Texas, I'm sure you could go without a burger for a week."

"No I couldn't," Tyler quickly chimed. "And speaking of this Jennifer, who is she?"

Chelsea rolled her eyes then pulled out her cell phone. She opened the stored pictures file and found a fairly decent picture of Jennifer and herself at a Camp Waccamosh bonfire a while back.

"She's kinda hot," Tyler nodded with approval.

Chelsea narrowed her eyes.

"What!?" Tyler protested. "I'm just sayin' you have quality choices in friends. I mean, both you and Raven are gorgeous and now I see this Jennifer character—" Tyler was effectively cut off by the station's alarm. "Let's rock and roll."

Chelsea bounded down the stairs while Tyler killed the stove, then slid down the fire pole.

"_Station Two, Station Thirteen, Engine One, Rescue One, Engine Thirty-Seven; Respond: Confirmed structure fire. Residential complex. 750 California Street._"

Every firefighter in the house donned their turnout attire. Within a minute, everyone, Raven and Chelsea included, situated themselves into their respective rigs. In the tiller cab of Truck Two, Tyler adjusted his headphones and microphone to communicate with the others in the front main cab.

"First due with House Two," Jamie called into his mike. "Let's get it."

Engine Two left its quarters first, turning left onto Powell, with Truck Two hot on its heels. The two vehicles mechanical sirens blared, mixed with the occasional blast of their air horns.

In the cab, Chelsea watched as both Wally and Lacey readied themselves, buckling their black protective jackets and placing tan colored Nomex hoods over their heads. Chelsea looked out of the corner of her eye at Raven, who clung to her seatbelt due to the speed and bumpiness of the ride.

"You okay, Raven?" Lacey asked, wrapping the collar of her turnout jacket around her neck. "You're lookin' a lil' sick."

"Oh I'm hangin'," Raven croaked, wincing as the truck made a tight, high-speed turn.

"I've never known you to get car sick, Rae," Chelsea remarked.

"I'm not car sick," Raven huffed. "I'm _truck_ sick."

Chelsea rubbed Raven's stomach, something her mother did when she was a child whenever she had an uneasy stomach.

"Ooh, keep that up," Wally purred. "That's hot. Too bad Nek's in the back and can't see this."

"Jesus Christ! Does it ever end with you?" Lacey hissed.

Wally put on his helmet and placed the chin strap around the brim of his head wear. "Nope. You should know this, Lace."

Within a few minutes weaving through traffic, they arrived at the site of the fire. Engine and Truck Thirteen and established their positions while a handful of police officers cleared out people who had no business in the matter. While Wally and Lacey hopped out, Chelsea and Raven observed the billowing black smoke belching from the apartment; flames occasionally licking the windows on the upper floors.

Once the truck was situated, Jamie and Aimee hopped out.

"You think they'll let us come out?" Chelsea asked.

Raven looked up at the seven story structure. "I dunno if I wanna get out, girl."

In the pit of her stomach, Chelsea felt the same way due to the fact that she didn't want to have a first hand glimpse of Tyler getting hurt or killed of he had to go into the building. Somehow, she swallowed her apprehensions and climbed out of the truck just enough to get a good look at what was occurring. Sure enough, she saw Tyler grabbing his gear, all of which looked ridiculously heavy. Once he slung his arms into his breathing device, he strolled over to her.

"You're gonna go in there, aren't you?" She asked, knowing his answer.

Tyler mustered a small, but uncertain smile. "Yeah." He noticed her lip start to quiver. "We'll be fine, Chelsea. I promise. See ya in a bit."

As he marched off to join the others, who gathered together with the other fire fighters from the different stations, she whispered, "please be careful," to herself. Raven stepped out and wrapped her arm around her best friend.

"He'll be fine, girl," Raven consoled, then went wide eyed, staring off into space and freezing in place—

—An incoming vision.

Once it passed, Raven shook her head, then affixed her gaze to the billowing smoke ejecting from the windows on the upper floors. She managed to mouth a muted "oh snap."

* * *

Tyler buckled his tool belt around his waist on the outside of his turnout coat, then slid his Halligan bar, axe, and sledgehammer into their births. Next, he checked the air gauge on his air tank. All the while, Battalion Chief Sally Thames, from Station 13, dished out their assignments as she was the ranking officer. Tyler, however, already knew his job—primary search. Abiding with the two-in, two-out law, he was teamed up with Lacey while Aimee and Wally were paired together. Since Jamie was the driver, it was his job to remain with the truck and operate the ladder if need be. 

"You ready?" Lacey asked, adjusting her gloves.

Tyler looked up towards the roof as Truck 13's crew ascended their ladder to ventilate the roof. "Let's hit it."

The two, followed by Aimee and Wally, entered the building's lobby, which was ripe with the foul odor of burning materials. A wispy smoke clouded the area, all of them knowing it would be worse. The odor, mixed with the heat generated and the blaring fire alarms were beginning to give Tyler a headache.

"So what's the plan, fearless leader?" Lacey asked Aimee.

"Somethin' where we don't get barbecued would be great," Wally added.

"According to Thames, everyone from the lower floors got out," Aimee stated. "The upper floors, the ones in a flaming ball of glory, are questionable. Power company should be killing the electricity to this place right about—" The fire alarm suddenly died—"now. Wally and I will take the left stairway. Lace? Nek? You've got the right."

Tyler checked his radio. "We'll see ya shortly."

"Don't get your ass killed," Wally reminded. "Your girlfriend's out there watching."

With a slight smile, Tyler, followed by Lacey, began to march up the East Wing stairwell. As the smoke became considerably thicker, limiting visibility to around a couple feet, Tyler activated his helmet mounted flashlight while Lacey turned on her light that was mounted on one of the shoulder straps of her breathing air tank.

By the time they reached the fourth floor, the smoke had become thick enough where they needed their air masks. The two hunkered down momentarily, removed their helmets, and pulled their masks over their faces, granting them fresh air, then put their helmets back on.

In addition to the hazy glow from their personal lights, the occasional flicker of fire presented itself through the smoke.

"Y'know, it's times like these that I think I should transfer to the engine," Lacey remarked.

"Times like these when i think I shoulda stuck to becoming an airline pilot," Tyler rebutted.

"_Tyler?_" Aimee called over the radio. "_Find anything?_"

"Thats a negative, fearless leader," Tyler responded. "But it's getting' hot over here. I've gotta feeling this beast's gonna rear its ugly head pretty soon."

"_Roger that._"

Lacey and Tyler continued forth, now crawling on their hands and knees as the smoke above had become thick enough that they couldn't see anything in front of them if they were to continue standing.

"_Search team, this is Thames. We've got a report of possible victims in..." _Chief Thames paused for a moment. "_Unit E Six-Oh-Four. That's E Six-Oh-Four._"

"Shit," Lacey hissed.

"This is Kent," Tyler responded. "We're at the fifth floor. We'll be there soon."

"_Steady as she goes," _Aimee said over the radio. "_We've got signs of imminent collapsing over here. No doubt it might be the same sitch over on your side."_

"Roger that," Tyler keyed into the radio. "We'll keep on our guard."

On the fifth floor, flames illuminated through the blackness of the smoke.

"I don't like this," Lacey remarked. "If we crawl, it'll take too long."

Tyler agreed. With that, the two got to their feet and double-timed it to the next stairwell that would take them to the sixth floor. With each step, they could feel the ground beneath them slightly sag and groan. Once they made it to the stairs, a large chunk of the floor where they previously stood, gave way.

"Jesus Christ!" Tyler cried, then barked into his radio. "This is Kent of Truck Two. We've got a collapse of the fifth floor on the eastern wing."

"_What's your current status? Over._" Thames inquired.

"Alvarez and myself are fine," Tyler responded. "But we'll need a way out."

"_For now, continue forth. If you find anyone up there, we'll make sure to get you a path home,_" Thames reported. "_Rieger? Give me a sit-rep on your part._"

"_The fifth floor's completely engulfed,_" Aimee stated. "_Wally and I almost walked headlong into a flashover._"

"_Alright. Rieger? Rooth? Pull out. I don't wanna risk losing anyone if there's no way to get there,_" Thames ordered. "_Alvarez? Kent? Continue forth._"

"Copy," Tyler responded.

"Figures," Lacey sighed. "Let's make the minorities bust their asses."

"Look at it this way," Tyler smirked. "If we don't make it, we'll get a park or something named after us."

"Not really helping, papi," Lacey scoffed. "Lets keep going."

The two marched up yet another flight of stairs, arriving at the sixth floor. Many of the doors on the level were shut, in addition to the noxious smoke. Occasional tongues of fire would peek through the smoke as well as make their presence known by lapping under doors.

"Angel fingers," Lacey remarked.

Tyler noticed one door rattling on its hinges and small puffs of mottled brownish-yellow smoke pulsating from under the door. He presented it to Lacey, then reached for the door knob, feeling for heat with the back of his gloved hand. Quickly, he pulled his hand back from the super hot metal knob and motioned for Lacey to get into position. The two flanked the rattling door—Lacey on the right side and Tyler on the left. Next, Tyler grabbed his axe and Halligan and meshed the two together, "marrying" the tools.

"Alright, Lace. One the count of three," Tyler said, making sure she had no part of her body in front of the door.

"One," Lacey counted. "Two... three."

With the head of his married set of tools, Tyler rammed the tools into the door, splintering the wooden frame and bashing the door inward. Instinctively, the two fire fighters spun out of the way just as a maelstrom of heat, smoke, and flame roared from the enclosed room—a backdraft.

"Lace!" Tyler shouted over the hellish roaring noise.

"I'm alright," she hollered back. "You?"

"Just a lil' on the hot side," Tyler responded.

After a few seconds, the shooting flames dissipated somewhat, allowing Lacey and Tyler to join back together. However, they knew there were far from being out of danger. They felt the floor shake slightly as they could see areas starting to sag and buckle. What truly terrified them was the space where Lacey was started to sag. Time seemed to simultaneously speed up then slow down.

"My kids," Lacey whispered just as the floor beneath her lost its integrity.

With his free hand, Tyler snagged the shoulder strap of her SCBA, then thrust the blade of his axe into a wall, preventing her inertia from bringing them both into the maw of fire and hell.

"Hang on Lace," Tyler gritted his teeth. "I got 'cha."

"Please don't let me go!" Lacey pleaded.

"Not on my watch," Tyler exclaimed. "You still gotta show me how to make those tamales! I don't think I can pull both of us up. Can you climb?"

"You callin' me fat!?" Lacey hissed.

"No!" Tyler snapped. "But if I move my hand, I might lose my grip."

"Okay, okay. I'll try," Lacey said.

She grabbed onto the waist of Tyler's SCBA and scampered up his body like a rope ladder. Once she was back on the floor, she grabbed onto Tyler, making sure he didn't fall. Tyler swung his leg outward a few times, finally catching the floor. Once stable, he, along with Lacey's assistance, managed to roll himself onto the floor and take a few breaths of relief.

"Let's not do that again," Tyler panted.

The two found another shut door.

"Hello?" Tyler called out. "Fire Department."

Tyler swore he heard _someone_ coughing from somewhere behind the door. Not bothering to wait, Tyler forced open the door and found one pregnant woman passed out on a couch.

"Oh man," he gasped, then noticed a vital lifeline that could get them out—a window.

Lacey entered the room then performed a search while Tyler checked the signs of the woman. Sure enough, Lacey found a little girl who took up refuge under a bed.

"It's alright," Lacey calmly said, peeling off her mask. "I'm here to get you out."

"Mommy," the little girl began to sob.

"It's okay," Lacey consoled. "My friend is with your mommy and as soon as we get outta here, she'll be just fine."

"Command? This is Kent," Tyler barked into his radio, placing his face mask over the woman's face. "We need a way out ASAP. We've got two people, both alive, but one unconscious. Multiple collapses."

"_Can you give us a fix on your location?_" Thames requested.

Tyler thought for a moment, then saw Lacey emerge cradling a little girl who was wearing her face mask. "Stand by, Command."

He marched over to the window and saw the mass of fire apparatus down below. He even saw Chelsea's face, which was full of distraught. Tyler sized up the window; more than enough space to get through. He slid his axe and Halligan back into their holsters, then wielded his sledgehammer and bashed out the window.

"That enough of a fix?" Tyler casually asked over the radio.

"_That'll do nicely_." Thames stated.

He peered out and saw Aimee and Wally scramble to set the outriggers.

"Tyler!" Lacey called, turning his attention to the encroaching flames that licked the door frame, attempting to ignite their small sanctuary.

"We need that stick double quick!" Tyler barked over the radio.

"_On its way, Nek,_" Aimee replied.

"The quicker the better." Tyler noted, hoisting the woman onto his shoulder—just in time to see her place of rest ignite.

Soot began to collect onto their sweat soaked faces as they awaited Truck 2's ladder. Soon, the fluorescent orange tip of the ladder made contact with the window sill. Tyler headed out first with the woman, closely followed by Lacey. Below, they could hear cheers of other fire fighters and onlookers as the pair descended with two rescued persons. The cheering soon went to a collective gasp as the room they were just in exploded, almost causing Tyler to lose his balance.

Once down on the turntable of the ladder, Tyler and Lacey handed their saved victims over to other waiting fire fighters. The two were then met with joyous pats on the back by the others as the engine crews set to work, dousing the flames with water.

On the ground, Tyler pulled off his helmet, wanting only to collapse and take a long nap.

"Hey," Lacey said, taking a sip from a water bottle. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"Savin' my ass. I get to go home and see my Ninos tonight." Lacey smiled.

Tyler waved it off. "It's my job."

Lacey splashed some of her water in his face. Chelsea then ran up, a look of terror and relief on her face.

"Are you alright? Are you hurt? Why are you so dirty and sweaty? What happened?" Chelsea asked all at once. "And don't lie to me and say nothing happened. I saw the fire and heard about the collapse."

"I was doing my job," Tyler answered, pulling off his SCBA and removing his turnout coat.

"But you could've been killed," Chelsea stated sternly.

Tyler could sense her tension. "Chelsea? Thats part of my job. Plus me and Lacey saved a pregnant woman and her child."

Chelsea dropped her head, a few tears trickling down her cheeks. "I-I'm sorry. I know its your job." She looked up, her eyes locking with his. "But when I saw the fire and the vi—" she paused, then chose her words more carefully—"when I _heard_ about the collapse, I got scared, y'know."

Tyler put his arms around her. "You don't have to worry about me, Chelsea. The guys always watch out for one another. But since I did have a near death experience, do I still get to see your red Victoria's Secret number?"

"Maybe," Chelsea purred, her brief emotional period vanishing away. "But you've gotta get clean first. The soot on your face is kinda sexy though."


End file.
